Luan Shi Jia Ren—EpilogueFantasy
I walked straight to the church after work,leaving Xiaodie to explore in my secret room. I had been working my head offthese months, and I could hardly walk up straight after work. The war hadstarted and everyone was either deadly quiet, from the disheartening newscoming from the front line, or annoyingly jittery: my employees started makingreally stupid mistakes these days. I felt it too, and I’m not really in theposition of judging other people. The unsettling and enduring pain of knowingmy home country coveted by countries that are more powerful, of knowing ourbrave soldiers and even innocent people being slaughtered in a godless way, andof knowing there’s little we can do—at least for women in Shanghai.
For several months I had been going tochurch. It’s a whim of mine after the incident. That’s the only place I want tobe after work; I’ll break if I go straight back to my apartment. Everyone wastrying to make me feel better at work, eyeing me like I will try to kill myselfagain. I certainly thought about it, but then I fought back the terriblethought; I cannot afford dying right now, I have to finish what my mom hadstarted: a cause that she will certainly be proud of and he too. Besides, Ineed to keep working. Working is the only thing that I have left. In the firstfew weeks, I couldn’t concentrate for more than ten minuets before my mindwandered off and then my throat started to get sore, and before I knew it, Iwas hiccupping and weeping.
It was getting dark but the street wasgrowing more boisterous. My destination was a church three blocks away from myworkplace, and it took me thirty minutes to walk there. I teetered across thecrowds and finally had the church within my sight. That’s when I heard thechoir singing again, sweet voices. It was very soothing to hear chant when I amall tired and drained out. I walked in and quietly sat down, allowing myselffor a second to forget all about what had happened and what was happening inthis world, and just simply let the voice washing through my heart, if I stillhave one. “Hallelujah”, they sang over and over again. Then I saw DavidLockwood, who was the priest of this church, walked towards me. I pressed asmile out of my face, and said hi to him. God, I must look ugly now, with myweary eyes, my pale skin, and a smirk! He smiled back and took a sit besidesme. “Hi! Miss Lianxin, it’s nice to see you, again.” David is an old man in hisfifties, and he has a beautiful pair of eyes. He had been staying in Shanghaifor over ten years, and he was learning Chinese. Sometimes he liked to try outsome words or phrases with me. He is a wonderful person to talk to; he was agood listener particularly, trying very hard to make sense of my situation andto feel from my perspective. His eyes are so expressive that I intrinsicallybelieve that he cares about everyone he ever talks to, and their stories.
“Mr. David, I hopeI’m not interrupting the rehearsal.”
“Oh, no! Not atall, you don’t need to worry about that. The boys like to have audiences whenthey are rehearsing.” He smiled at the boys and I could tell he was very proudof them. “Miss Lianxin, you look worn out. Is everything ok?”
“I’m managing…” Istared at my newly trimmed nails and was fighting the urge to scream. “Mr.Lockwood…I… am tired…I feel lost.” I stumbled over words because uttering each oneof them is reducing my chance of winning the battle I kept fighting everysecond for all these months.
Then I felt hispalm caressing my back in a very gentle way. “Miss Lianxin, you want to talkabout it? You know, sometimes it’s ok to feel weak for a while. No one isasking you to be a superwoman.”
Before I evenrealized it, I was crying with all the strength I had left in my body. My eyeswere blurry that I could see only colors and contours. I knew that my heart wasdamaged beyond repair, and I was trying so hard to tell everyone that I’m fine,and I can keep working like a man. The night I lost him was a nightmare that Idare not think about. A mere mention of his name is going to drain all thepower I summed up in my body, and I never set foot on our old house or thestreet leading to it. I was afraid I might break into pieces like glass fallingon the ground. I felt like I’m a broken toy that has to keep functioning forthe greater cause. I knew it’s the right thing to do—keep going for the greatergood. Only I knew that I was not strong at all, not without him at my side.
“I felt my heartwas bleeding to death, Mr. Lockwood…” I groaned, “Why would God do this to me?”
He patted myshoulder and then took my hands with both of his hands. “Miss Lianxin, I knewhow much pain you are in, losing the person you love. God has his own reasonsof making your fate it is. Chongyang was a brave man, and he was lucky enoughto have so many people loving him. ”
“Do you believe…in the physical…existence of… God?” I asked, and tears were still coming out ofmy eyes like crazy.
“Sure I do, but itdoesn’t really matter that much,” he looked me in the eye and I felt the piercingblue eyes, as if they are caressing my damaged heart. “Believing in God willgive you a easier life, Miss Lianxin. Especially in a world like this that isfilled with pain and suffering, people need to know that after they died,things are going to be better. They need to have something to hold on to whenthey are in despair.”
“And more courageto face loss and death.” I murmured.
“Yes.” He grippedmy hand harder and then gave me a gentle hug. “Miss Lianxin, feel free to cometo the church whenever you feel like it. God will take anyone who is lost. Ihope you find enough strength to get through this hard time.” Then he left meto attend to the choirboys, with me sitting at the same spot and lost inmeditation.
I walked straight to the church after work,leaving Xiaodie to explore in my secret room. I had been working my head offthese months, and I could hardly walk up straight after work. The war hadstarted and everyone was either deadly quiet, from the disheartening newscoming from the front line, or annoyingly jittery: my employees started makingreally stupid mistakes these days. I felt it too, and I’m not really in theposition of judging other people. The unsettling and enduring pain of knowingmy home country coveted by countries that are more powerful, of knowing ourbrave soldiers and even innocent people being slaughtered in a godless way, andof knowing there’s little we can do—at least for women in Shanghai.
For several months I had been going tochurch. It’s a whim of mine after the incident. That’s the only place I want tobe after work; I’ll break if I go straight back to my apartment. Everyone wastrying to make me feel better at work, eyeing me like I will try to kill myselfagain. I certainly thought about it, but then I fought back the terriblethought; I cannot afford dying right now, I have to finish what my mom hadstarted: a cause that she will certainly be proud of and he too. Besides, Ineed to keep working. Working is the only thing that I have left. In the firstfew weeks, I couldn’t concentrate for more than ten minuets before my mindwandered off and then my throat started to get sore, and before I knew it, Iwas hiccupping and weeping.
It was getting dark but the street wasgrowing more boisterous. My destination was a church three blocks away from myworkplace, and it took me thirty minutes to walk there. I teetered across thecrowds and finally had the church within my sight. That’s when I heard thechoir singing again, sweet voices. It was very soothing to hear chant when I amall tired and drained out. I walked in and quietly sat down, allowing myselffor a second to forget all about what had happened and what was happening inthis world, and just simply let the voice washing through my heart, if I stillhave one. “Hallelujah”, they sang over and over again. Then I saw DavidLockwood, who was the priest of this church, walked towards me. I pressed asmile out of my face, and said hi to him. God, I must look ugly now, with myweary eyes, my pale skin, and a smirk! He smiled back and took a sit besidesme. “Hi! Miss Lianxin, it’s nice to see you, again.” David is an old man in hisfifties, and he has a beautiful pair of eyes. He had been staying in Shanghaifor over ten years, and he was learning Chinese. Sometimes he liked to try outsome words or phrases with me. He is a wonderful person to talk to; he was agood listener particularly, trying very hard to make sense of my situation andto feel from my perspective. His eyes are so expressive that I intrinsicallybelieve that he cares about everyone he ever talks to, and their stories.
“Mr. David, I hopeI’m not interrupting the rehearsal.”
“Oh, no! Not atall, you don’t need to worry about that. The boys like to have audiences whenthey are rehearsing.” He smiled at the boys and I could tell he was very proudof them. “Miss Lianxin, you look worn out. Is everything ok?”
“I’m managing…” Istared at my newly trimmed nails and was fighting the urge to scream. “Mr.Lockwood…I… am tired…I feel lost.” I stumbled over words because uttering each oneof them is reducing my chance of winning the battle I kept fighting everysecond for all these months.
Then I felt hispalm caressing my back in a very gentle way. “Miss Lianxin, you want to talkabout it? You know, sometimes it’s ok to feel weak for a while. No one isasking you to be a superwoman.”
Before I evenrealized it, I was crying with all the strength I had left in my body. My eyeswere blurry that I could see only colors and contours. I knew that my heart wasdamaged beyond repair, and I was trying so hard to tell everyone that I’m fine,and I can keep working like a man. The night I lost him was a nightmare that Idare not think about. A mere mention of his name is going to drain all thepower I summed up in my body, and I never set foot on our old house or thestreet leading to it. I was afraid I might break into pieces like glass fallingon the ground. I felt like I’m a broken toy that has to keep functioning forthe greater cause. I knew it’s the right thing to do—keep going for the greatergood. Only I knew that I was not strong at all, not without him at my side.
“I felt my heartwas bleeding to death, Mr. Lockwood…” I groaned, “Why would God do this to me?”
He patted myshoulder and then took my hands with both of his hands. “Miss Lianxin, I knewhow much pain you are in, losing the person you love. God has his own reasonsof making your fate it is. Chongyang was a brave man, and he was lucky enoughto have so many people loving him. ”
“Do you believe…in the physical…existence of… God?” I asked, and tears were still coming out ofmy eyes like crazy.
“Sure I do, but itdoesn’t really matter that much,” he looked me in the eye and I felt the piercingblue eyes, as if they are caressing my damaged heart. “Believing in God willgive you a easier life, Miss Lianxin. Especially in a world like this that isfilled with pain and suffering, people need to know that after they died,things are going to be better. They need to have something to hold on to whenthey are in despair.”
“And more courageto face loss and death.” I murmured.
“Yes.” He grippedmy hand harder and then gave me a gentle hug. “Miss Lianxin, feel free to cometo the church whenever you feel like it. God will take anyone who is lost. Ihope you find enough strength to get through this hard time.” Then he left meto attend to the choirboys, with me sitting at the same spot and lost inmeditation.
