A Sunday Bonus Story: Rush to the Dead Summer // Epilogue: Li Xia

This is for fans of the drama Rush to the Dead Summer (夏至未至) who wants Li Xia’s perspective because the open ending is too vague (aka myself). This epilogue is an excerpt of the last chapter of the book 1995-2005夏至未至 by Guo Jing Ming. It tells us what happens to Li Xia after she disappears from her group of friends and what she feels, even so many years after. 

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Side C: Li Xia

When I was in Qian Chuan once again, I realised I no longer have many memories of this place. After returning to the district from Beijing, I rarely visited Qian Chuan. The people in my hometown and some old classmates were very puzzled why a Peking University graduate like myself would return to the countryside but I didn’t want to explain. I only waited for time to wash away everything.

Thus I lived my life that way, ordinarily and plainly. I found an ordinary job, found an ordinary man to date and discuss about our marriage plans. It was just that I will never again experience the same feelings I felt for Fu Xiao Si.

I would never again think about someone that way. Never again long for someone that much. Never again worry that much if someone has eaten and if someone was dressed warmly enough for the weather. Never again be overwhelmed with anxiety just because someone has frowned. Never again stay up for a few days straight just to make someone’s work easier.

Those days will never return again.

The same way the reckless Li Xia, who threw everything for love, will never return again.

Occasionally, I would come to Qian Chuan for some matters. After I finished the things I had to do, I would stay for another day and spend time walking the familiar streets and admiring the familiar scenery.

Many times I would see Yu Jian but I never dared to call out to her. In my memory, she was like a beautiful swallow-tailed butterfly soaring across the spring valley. Many times, I quietly watched her, watched her as she stood on the streets, watched her as she went to buy things, watched her and Qing Tian walking through the streets at twilight, just like she did so many years ago.

I always pretended that I was with her, enjoying these ordinary happiness, and that we were still together.

Even though we were no longer together.

I didn’t tell her I have returned. In her heart, she must still think that I was still at a place where nobody knew about.

There were still some sparkling, shiny details left in my memories. They come to me in dreams, on countless rainy nights.

In those dreams, you were still wearing your CK white t-shirt, stained with grease from the time I accidentally knocked my bento over you. You still looked at me straight in the eyes without expression.

In those dreams, you were still silently handing me a sharpened pencil, you were still helping me climb the tall school gates, you were still the little painter Ji Si unknown to everyone else in China but me.

In those dreams, you were still waiting for me in the heavy rain to come down from the apartment, you were still happily eating the little snacks I brought from my hometown, you were still dressed thinly for the winter and unafraid of the cold, you were still together with me, making the same choice in the path of science and arts division.

In those dreams, you were still wrapping your coat around me in the heavy snow, you were still smiling as you told me good morning. No matter how tired you look, you were still cautious about my moods and were still checking the map and taking me to places I have never been to.

But you in those dreams have long died in the summer of 2003. Died in the summer where we don’t feel warm even with the blazing sun.

Standing at the entrance of Qian Chuan Academy, I suddenly remembered what you told me as you laid your head on my lap. “Li Xia, let’s find a day and return to Qian Chuan Academy and see the camphor trees there.”

And yet, of the promise made that day, only I remained and returned to this place. Xiao Si, do you know that, of the girls who walked out of the gate, many were holding onto your artbooks? In their eyes, from their conversation, you were already an idol to them. It was difficult for me to imagine that a once ordinary boy in school would turn out to be a legend among these students. When you hear about this, you would probably be very happy. I was also once like those girls, carrying your artbooks everywhere. The difference was that, back then I didn’t realise that Ji Si was breathing the same air and walking the same road as I do.

And I could even reminisce about your rare smile. Thinking about that smile, I almost broke down in front of my fiance, who I will marry very soon.

He is also very gentle.

He is also very attentive.

When I was ill, he would also buy me medicine.

But he will never be able to give me the colours you have once given me. Sometimes I felt that you were too selfish. After taking me to see such beautiful scenery, you left me halfway. And ever since then, my future path became incapable of exceeding the past.

I am getting married tomorrow.

Today, I came to Qian Chuan to pick out furniture for my home. Passing by a painting shop, I was surprised to see so many of your paintings hanging inside. There were so many of them, a mix of your paintings pre- and post-fame. I carefully admired each and every one. I felt like I was watching your ups and downs passing in front of me. It was shocking, the same way I felt when I first saw you.

I told my husband that these paintings were all by the painter I admired the most when I was in high school. Thus he smiled sweetly at me and said, “If you like them, we can hang them all in our home.”

I agreed. “Only these paintings are worthy of decorating my youth.”

As I said this, it was as if the curtain were suddenly pulled on a sunset in my heart. Everything turned dark.

I suddenly recalled that we once watched a play in university, called Romeo and Juliet. One of the dialogue read as such: “It is bright outside, our hearts are dark.”

The shop owner even joked that I was really young in heart, because all these paintings were most popular among young girls. I only smiled without replying. I was worried if I said anything, they will be able to tell the melancholy in my voice.

I asked my husband to pick a painting for me. He pointed at the painting he liked which hung at the corner of the shop. I looked in the direction he pointed. It was the painting A Never-Before-Seen Scenery. When I paid for the paintings, the one I placed top most was this painting. A memory flashed in my mind. It was of the an angel in the painting, when she came down from the heaven to kiss the boy. I remembered the girl’s white dress and that boy’s eyes which were brighter than the stars in the sky. And, on the night of that New Year’s eve, you spoke to me from outside the window:

“Li Xia, let’s kiss.”

All those years, all those times, all those fragrance of ink and paint, all those boys who played in the heavy rain, all those girls who memorised English vocabulary by the lake, all those phoenix flowers that blossomed at the height of summer, all those people who left, all those people who returned, all those shining poems, all those diaries dulled by time, all those lost time, all those homes that were rebuilt. All those fallen leaves in the rain, all those withered wines washed away by the river, all those songs sung in the dark, all those clouds drifting in the sky, all those happiness and tears, all those kindness and freedom.

All those rushed towards a grand death that summer so many years ago.

Only the endless rows of camphor trees remained, like ocean waves that engulfed the entire city. They would only quietly whisper during the annual wet monsoon season.

Whispering the legend of you all.

Only the legend you left behind. 

Those boys, they taught me growth.

Those girls, they taught me love.