“Zhen Xue, did you hear me?” Zhi tilted his head. His dark locks hanging around his ears swayed with his movement. “Are you okay?”
Thump, thump.
“Maybe the coffee was bitter?” Tianshi suggested. She was sitting to his right, wearing a pale blue dress with white flowers in her auburn hair. When their eyes met, she smiled at him.
Thump, thump.
He couldn’t breathe. The night air filled with sounds he hadn’t heard in fifteen years, modern noises that overwhelmed his senses. People talking on their cellphones, crossing the street. The sound of clanking metal as cars stopped at a traffic light.
Thump, thump, thump.
Zhen Zhi and Zhen Tianshi were alive, sitting across from him. He placed a hand over his mouth, staring at the table to recollect himself. Panic continued to spread through his body, paralyzing him to the spot.
He looked up at them again, his mouth falling open, wanting to say something... to say anything to them, but he couldn’t speak. What could he say in this situation? For fifteen years, he watched them die repeatedly, stuck in the same memory, repeating the same words, reliving the same emotions... the same grief.
Was this even real?
His hands trembled on the table, afraid to find out.
“Sorry,” he managed after a moment. His voice was quiet and surprisingly calmer than he felt. “What... What were you saying?”
Zhi released a breathy grin, brightening up significantly. “I said, do you want to try that new game you bought? It’s multiplayer, right?”
Zhen Xue blinked, his mind going blank. He felt around his coat pocket, retrieving his phone with shaky hands. The screen flickered to life as his thumb went over the power button.
His eyes widened at the date filled with random letters.
None of this was real.
He closed his eyes, releasing a deep breath.
It hurt. The ache in his chest hurt so much.
With his heart in his throat, he opened his eyes again, looking between the two hollow shells staring back at him. He could feel the pressure in his waterlines from trying to withhold his tears. “Why do you look like them? What are you?!”
Calmly, Tianshi moved her fingers across the casing of her steamy mug before replying, “An echo, or rather, a part of them, that exists within your mind. You could think of us as the barrier protecting you from your past.”
He slid the phone back into his pocket, nearly missing the sleeve in his coat. He didn’t meet their gaze, instead looking through the glass window to the barista serving drinks. Swallowing hard, he continued to stare without absorbing what he saw.
He can’t ignore what Calisaya said. Nor how vivid his dream was about Xu Yang’s death. Nor the endless burning village with familiarity he could never seem to place.
These three things had something in common. Something he realized without acknowledging what it meant. It was time for him to face the truth.
Tianshi folded her hands on the table, drawing his attention away from the barista. Her iridescent hues flickered from the warm cafe lights. “I see you’re ready.”
Her words inflicted a terrible headache. The sharp pain was familiar, similar to when Calisaya spoke about killing him to restart.
His hands continued to shake, terrified of that door within his mind bursting open. He reflexively clenched his hands, adjusting to the invisible weight pressing down within him. And then, within the quiet, a word floated to the surface of his tongue, leaving his mouth, “Regression,” he breathed.
Zhi leaned back in his chair, giving him half a smile at his assessment. “It is interesting how you regressed without your memories, but yet you never really forgot. Your novel is proof that those memories lived on.”
His mind was spinning with countless possibilities that twisted his stomach with a horrible bitterness. The fact he doesn’t remember everyone he was close to didn’t sit right with him.
Tianshi sipped her drink before she spoke. “You are correct in thinking that the closer you are with the bonds you once knew, the more memories from the past will unravel.”
That... That made sense. He experienced that dream about Xu Yang right after their bond deepened, which only left the other dream... Which meant there was a connection between the burning village and Ming Yi.
At the realization, a horrible, suffocating dread filled his stomach.
“Whatever happened in that village,” Zhi answered his silent question. “Shook your soul so deeply that your mind refuses to fully remember. Regarding that memory, I think it would be best not to push yourself.”
Zhen Xue’s hands were shaking in his lap, absorbing everything he learned. As he noticed Tianshi and Zhi watching him with concern, he put those thoughts aside. It took all his effort to return to the present. He wiped his sleeve over his eyes, removing the remains of tears. “It’s so unfair.”
Tianshi smiled, reaching out to hold his hand. “Unfairness shapes who we become, and you... You have grown into someone Zhi and Tianshi would be proud of.”
“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” Zhi reached forward and patted his head as tears swelled in his eyes again. “Zhi meant what he said when he told you to live well. When you regain what you lost, his last wish will come true.”
That thought put him slightly at ease, but not for long, because another thought took its place. He turned back to Zhi, his heart hammering in his chest. “If I regressed, where did I really come from? Are we... Are we even related?”
“Does it matter if we’re not?”
Zhen Xue almost choked on the word. “No.”
Zhi smiled at his answer, saying softly, “Even within countless lifetimes, nothing changes the connections you’ve made along the way.”
Those words resonated deeply with Zhen Xue. The tension he felt loosened like an unraveling spindle of yarn. “You... I mean, they don’t hate me?” Zhen Xue choked out in disbelief.
Zhi’s gaze softened considerably. “Let me ask you something... How do you remember them? They often smiled and laughed the most when you were around. You were their entire world. Knowing you were safe no doubt gave them peace in their last moments.”
That’s... No, why doesn’t he understand? Zhen Xue swallowed the knot in his throat. “If only I had remembered them being killed, I could’ve stopped it. Why...? Why did I forget?”
“Knowing wouldn’t have changed anything,” Zhi looked towards the falling snow that settled on the table between them, like a veil that separated them from where they went. “Not only did you forget your past lives, but you woke up in an entirely different world. Anything was possible, but the silver-haired man can answer your questions.”
That guilt and sorrow he felt shifted. No longer did he feel weighed down. Instead, he felt ready to soar with a fierce determination. “I swear, I will find the truth.” He held their gaze, placing a hand over his heart. His heartbeat rattled anxiously against his hand. “They will rest in peace.”
Zhi nodded, a look of calm passing his features. “We know you will.”
At his words spoken with finality, Zhen Xue swallowed hard. He got to see them after so long. It was too soon to say goodbye. “Don’t go,” he breathed. “Just... Just stay a while longer.”
Zhi shook his head, smiling softly. “Have you ever felt we were truly gone?” He reached out, ruffling Zhen Xue’s hair. “You were never alone, little brother. Even now, those you loved are closer than you realize.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It was snowing outside the inn, just like that night fifteen years ago.
The crystal snowflakes floated down from the sky like powdered sugar sprinkling from the heavens across the vast Under City. In a way, it was almost like the gods were trying to wash away their sins. Zhen Xue stood under the awning for some air, a soft breeze filling his lungs.
The dream with Tianshi and Zhi was still fresh in his mind.
The story he thought he wrote was nothing more than fragments of his past. What was he, exactly? Where did he come from? He raised his hand before himself, staring at his palm for answers that never came.
Somehow, his entire world got flipped upside down yet again.
There was a slight tremble in his chest that drew his attention back to the snow falling around him. He swore that his soul shook briefly in response. His condition was getting worse.
The tremors continued, but fainter this time.
What if he died before he could achieve his goals? Would Zhi and Tianshi never rest in peace?
He closed his eyes with a shaky breath. That can’t happen. It must not happen.
“Ah Xue,” Li Wei breathed, embracing him from behind. His arms snaked around his waist, grounding him to the moment, dispersing the anxiety he felt. “Be careful. You’re going to fall.”
Had he almost fallen over? He relaxed into Li Wei’s hold, relief washing over him before he could breathe again. “I think... I think I’m just tired.”
He tried to calm himself, only for his body to grow heavier. He could feel Li Wei’s concern pouring off of him in waves. In fact, he was not entirely sure how he knew, but the emotions he felt from Li Wei were definitely there within himself, like a tether connecting the two of them.
Was that connection always there?
“I’m taking you to a healer,” Li Wei decided.
“No... This isn’t...” Zhen Xue trailed off, unsure how to explain. “It’s not a mortal condition.”
With clear displeasure, Li Wei replied in a quiet voice, “I really can’t stand to see you hurt.”
“I just need more sleep.” His hand brushed Li Wei’s arm that was around his waist. He’d done so absently, wanting to comfort him, but decided against it. “I’ll be fine,” he said with more confidence than he felt.
Li Wei was quiet, no doubt assessing him further. “At the very least...” he reached into his inner robes and then wrapped his arms back around him to support his weight, something now shining between his thumb and forefinger. “Keep this with you.”
There before him was a silver ring in the shape of a dragon. The scales reflected the moon peeking through the clouds, and for a moment as the light glistened over the surface, Zhen Xue felt a tug of distant familiarity.
“If you ever need me,” Li Wei said softly. “For anything at all, call upon me with this ring. It will connect our minds and our hearts.” Li Wei took his right hand and dropped the object into his palm. “Reach out to me, and I swear, I will find you.”
He’d never heard Li Wei sound so sincere.
An inexplicable sadness overcame him, though he couldn’t explain why.
Were these Li Wei’s emotions, or his own?
He didn’t know the answer, but what felt more important was this gentle warmth embracing him with steady hands.
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