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He wakes up and doesn’t know where he is. There’s no conscious memory of the plain, off-white walls, small desk topped with pictures, or the person sleeping at his bedside. Something in his body knows this space though. He feels safe and secure as he starts to sit up, apparently jostling the person sleeping at his bedside enough to wake them.
“Xiaoge! You woke up!” The title slips over him like an old glove, comfortable and warm. It isn’t his name. He doesn’t think he has one of those, but being called Xiaoge just feels right. He turns to study the person next to him and the name slips out of his lips before he can think to stop them.
“Wu Xie.” The person freezes in the middle of getting up, eyes turning misty with sadness.
“Yeye warned me this might happen.” The person stands up and moves towards the desk, grabs a picture frame and returns to the bed. The picture shows him standing between two elderly men, both have large grins that crinkle their eyes on their faces, his own face showing a small, happy smile. He knows them and his heart aches with bittersweet nostalgia, hand reaching to take the frame. “Great-grandfather passed away a long time ago. You’ve told me I look a lot like he did when he was younger. I’m Wu Xiaomao.”
He feels the echoes of old heartbreak in his chest, like an old wound, healed over, but still hurting.
The rest of the morning is spent with Xiaomao telling him about his past. His name is apparently Zhang Qiling, but it wasn’t the name he was born with. He is old, but his memory has always been bad. He excels in almost all things physical but is lazy when he can get away with it. He used to spend a lot of time exploring tombs and was the best at it but stopped doing it as often the past few years. He can use recent technology but sometimes pretends not to when he doesn’t want to be bothered.
After a small lunch, Xiaomao brings him to another room in the small house that's filled with bookshelves. Some of the bookshelves are covered in leather bound journals. One comfortable looking chair sits in a corner next to a small end table and lamp. The pattern of the chair was obnoxiously bright and busy and the sight of it brought a bloom of warm indulgence followed quickly by bittersweet heartbreak in his chest.
“These are all journals either written by Great-grandfather, Pang-yeye, or you. Yeye and dad still have their journals at home, but if you want to see them, I’m sure they’d be happy to bring them over for you.” His body moves before he really registers what he’s doing, grabbing a journal and settling into that obnoxiously patterned chair and flicking on the lamp despite the clear sunlight streaming through the windows. The rest of the day is spent sitting in that chair, sipping on warm water and snacks. He hears voices just outside the room occasionally, Xiaomao and another person talking quietly.
“He called you Wu Xie?” The voice is light and surprised. It's hard for him to guess much about the speaker besides that they’re young, probably around the same age as Xiaomao. “Oh shit, do you think he’ll remember again?”
“I don’t know! Yeye and Great Grandfather said that having familiar things would help, but I don’t even know if remembering would be for the best. He was so sad for so long after Great Grandpa died and he still goes to clean his and Pang Yeye’s grave.”
“Well, considering everything that your Great Grandfather did to prepare for when Xiaoge would lose his memories, it's pretty obvious that he wanted Xiaoge to remember.”
That night he dreams of a dinner being cooked. The smells wafting out of the kitchen smell amazing and he moves towards it, may to see if he can help, maybe to steal a bite. He can hear two people talking through the sounds of food being cooked and vegetables being chopped. Just as he’s about to cross the threshold, a larger man with wildly floppy hair, gray streaks peppered throughout spots him out of the corner of his eye.
“Don’t you dare come in here Xiaoge!” The man, Pangzi , waves a pair of cooking chopsticks at him with one hand, wiping the other on the hello kitty apron wrapped around his waist. “Tianzhen! Make sure Xiaoge doesn’t get in the kitchen and touch anything! Pangye has been working on this meal for too long for him to ruin it now!”
“Si Pangzi! I’m still busy cutting all the vegetables! Besides, you know we can’t keep Xiaoge out if he really wants to be here. You just make sure he doesn't put anything into the wok and the food will be fine.” The other man, Wu Xie , looks down at a chopping board, a large daikon radish being julliand quickly and efficiently under his skilled knife.
He decides to just lean against the doorway, observing the two of them as they move around the kitchen. He can see the crows feet in Wu Xie’s eyes, the gray hairs that have been increasing in number. Wu Xie and Pangzi continue their lighthearted banter throughout the cooking time, occasionally asking him rhetorical questions that he doesn’t answer. Ah, this is a memory, he thinks, the fond warmth inside him grows even as the ache of old loss accompanies it grows too. He thinks that he must always be feeling that ache, that it’s never left him ever since they’ve left.
“Xiaoge,we’re almost done cooking, so can you get the table set?” Wu Xie asks him. He looks into those warm, brown eyes, full of love and thinks I love this man , and goes to set the table. Even though he doesn’t remember where the bowls and chopsticks are, his body does and soon, the table is set with three bowls, three sets of chopsticks, and three glasses. Pangzi and Wu Xie quickly set the dishes they’ve made on the table and start eating.
He sits there, frozen as the memory continues to play out. This was just a boring, ordinary day in Rain Village. The most exciting thing to happen was him realizing just how much he loved Wu Xie as he leaned against the wood in that doorway and the dinner that followed.
“Wu Xie, I miss you” he says instead of what he had actually said that day. “Pangzi, I miss you too.”
The two men stop eating and look at him with wide eyes. One chopstick clatters out of Wu Xie’s hand onto the ground as his eyes go wide. Pangzi manages to set both chopsticks down on the table, but his mouth hangs open. It was the reaction they had when he told Wu Xie “I love you ”.
What happened next was different.
Wu Xie and Pangzi both reach out and cradle his face, and it’s only then that he realizes he’s crying. Both of them look at him with such immense tenderness and love, carefully wiping the tears off his cheeks as he reaches for them. The scenery blurs as the dream shifts and suddenly the three of them are in the living room with the two of them kneeling in front of him as he sits on the couch.
He pulls both of them close and keeps crying into their shoulders as they cling back to him. Memories of the two of them flow back into focus; the adventures they’ve had with each other, the trouble they’ve both gotten into and caused, the people they’ve met and lost, the way they had aged, slowly and inevitably while he stayed the same. The deep sense of dread that grew by the day like a weight in his chest.
“I miss both of you still. I woke up and forgot but I still miss you both.” He looks into Pangzi’s eyes and remembers how much it hurt when he died of stomach cancer. The slow, painful decline and the way the dread that has lingered inside him for years made his heart heavy and desperate. Pangzi grabbing his wrist one day face thin and pale but eyes still bright, and telling him not to look for anything to save him, that he had accepted his death a long time ago, that his greatest regret was that he was leaving his Xiaoge behind but hoped that he would stay by Tianzen and look after the man for him as well. Pangzi had only been 75.
His eyes move to Wu Xie’s face and remember the decades they had together. Those years had been filled with so many different things; love, joy, pain, embarrassment, and so many other things. It had been the happiest time of his life and he had wished pointlessly that it could last forever.
Wu Xie had lived to 93, with children, grandchildren, and even a few great grandchildren all surrounding him as he aged. By all accounts, he had lived a long and mostly happy life. It was only in the last decade that he started to develop Alzheimer’s Disease. He had noticed the first signs quickly; he always made a point to keep track of all the changes that happened to Wu Xie. The decline had been painfully gradual, punctuated by both good and bad spikes.
At one point, Wu Xie had held his hands and cried as he poured out all of his fears about how he was changing, how he didn’t want to forget and not even realize he was forgetting. All he could do was hold Wu Xie’s frail, shaking body and cry with him. The two of them had already spoken at length, especially after Pangzi’s death, about how Wu Xie didn’t want him to try and find ways of extending his life in tombs.
“I don’t want you to leave one day and forget, Xiaoge. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I want to spend as much time with you as I can. I don’t want you to go where I can’t follow you anymore.”
All he could do for Wu Xie was be there and help ground him as time went on. His unaging appearance allowed him to be an anchor as Wu Xie’s illness continued to progress in a role reversal that both of them were uncomfortable with at first. It allowed Wu Xie to recognize him even when the names of his family members would fade. As time went on, he learned how to take care of Wu Xie, taking online classes and reading any books he could on how to do better.
By the end, he had to help Wu Xie with everything, not trusting hired nurses or caregivers to care for Wu Xie as much as he could and when the end came, it was painfully bittersweet. His greatest connection to this world was lost, but it had been almost just as painful to see the once vibrant person he once journeyed with slowly lose the ability to even remember his children’s names.
The years after Wu Xie’s death had been difficult, but he hadn’t been alone. Li Cu, Xiao Mei, and all their children and even little Xiaomao had surrounded him with their shared grief, all of them making sure that he knew he wasn’t alone, that even though he may have lost his strongest connection, he was not unmoored. Living alongside Wu Xie and Pangzi had naturally drawn him into the lives of their families. If he were to try and disappear, there would be so many people that would notice and try and find him.
As he continued to cry on the couch that had been long since reupholstered and restored in the small house he kept maintaining, he drew both of them close, clinging to them. This dream is kind in that it allows him to stay there, hugging the two people that he felt closest to as he re-lived a lifetime of joy and loss. Both of them look at him, tears flowing down their young and healthy faces, looking just as they did when he first saw them.
“I don’t want to wake up.” he confessed. “I don’t want to leave both of you behind again.”
“You know that isn’t possible Xiaoge.” Wu Xie said, leaning back just enough so that they could look each other in the eyes. “A dream can’t last forever.”
One large, warm hand came up to ruffle his hair as Pangzi laughed.
“I know you’ve missed your handsome Pangye, but we’re still just memories Xiaoge.” Pangzi’s eyes crinkled in a way that eventually left deep crows feet that made it look like he was always smiling as he aged. “We know it's been hard for you these past few years, but you’ve done so well!”
“We’re so proud of you. I’m so proud of you. Neither of us are going anywhere, so when the time finally comes for you to join us, we’ll be waiting for you.” Wu Xie said. All he could do after that was hold onto both of them as the dream started to fade and take in as much as he could of them both.
When he opens his eyes, he remembers most of his life from after he had met Wu Xie. Wiping the tears from his face, he changes out of his sleeping clothes and walks over to the library Wu Xie and Pangzi had started just for him, filled with nothing but memories of him and for him. This room, the whole building he is in, is a testament to how much the two of them had cared for him, how they never wanted him to go back to wandering the world, untethered and searching for who he was the way he had been before they came into his life. This library is proof of their love for him that would last as long as he is there to keep it safe.
Eventually, enough time passes that Xiaomao walks in to find him standing in the weak morning light, eyes misty and still red from crying and jumps.
“Xiaoge! Are you going to be reading all day today? You should eat some breakfast first at least.” He turned to look at the young man that had just barely avoided shouting at him. He remembers being there the day that he was born, lending his hand to an anxious Li Cu as they waited outside the birthing room for him to become a grandfather. He remembers birthday parties and New Years celebrations. He remembers teaching Xiaomao how to identify antiques and how to defend himself. He remembers all the times he would look at Xiaomao and see how alike and different he was from Wu Xie.
“Xiaomao. Thank you.” He responds, placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze. “I must have worried you yesterday. I’m sorry”
A rush of air leaves his lungs as Xiaomao eyes go wide before pulling him into a tight hug.
“Do you remember me now?! I called Dad and Yeye yesterday, both said they’d try to be here today but apparently some of the roads are bad and Yeye had a meeting that he couldn’t cancel and Nainai was mad at him for-'' Zhang Qiling pulls away from Xiaomao and ruffles his hair the way he used to when Xiaomao was still a boy. He nods and watches the smile spread on Xiaomao’s face. He can see Wu Xie’s bright curiosity even if the face it's set in is different.
“Wu Xiaomao! I’ve told you so many times not to leave dishes in the sink, you animal!” The other voice from yesterday shouts throughout the house, loud steps punctuating the speakers annoyance. Now, he recognizes the speaker as Wang Xiuying, Pangzi’s great granddaughter. He had also seen her grow up along with how she had taken the build inherited from her family and turned it into a successful power lifting career. She charged through the doorway before stopping and staring at the two of them. “Ah, Xiaoge, um…”
“Xiuying.” He said, taking a little pity on her awkward pause. “Your competition?”
He took some pleasure in the dumbfound shock on her face and could hear Xiaomao restrain himself from laughing. A moment later, he was wrapped in strong arms and lifted into a bone crushing hug as Xiuying laughed loudly.
“Xiaoge! You remember again?! Holy shit, I was so worried about you! I’ve already withdrawn from that thing because how could I compete at 100% if you weren’t there to creep on me from the rafters?!” She set him down and slapped his back hard enough that he almost had to take a step forward. He sighs, lightly nods, stepping back and taking in the sight of both of them, and thinking over how he loved them.
His love for them was so different from the love he had for Wu Xie and Pangzi, but the amount was the same. Looking at the way their faces had lit up at his recognition, he knew that they loved him.
100 years ago, he couldn’t imagine anyone even noticing whether he lived or died. This was the first amnesia bout he has had since Wu Xie died and there were two people, right in front of him, that had dropped everything to be with him; others on the way.
“Thank you,” Is all he says. He’d never seen the need to use words when his actions spoke loudly enough, but with last night’s dream still on his mind, he felt the need to say it, to make sure they knew how much it meant to him. Both of them reach out a hand and hold one of his at his quiet statement and look at him with the same tenderness and love that Wu Xie and Pangzi had.
They were that love, echoed and refracted through time, renewed with each new bond and memory he made with them. Standing there, in that library, he knew that he would never have to be alone again.