“That’s impossible. You’re lying to me,” she said with a laugh.
“I’m not lying. Book a flight back immediately,” I said.
Meng Meng rushed back, but she didn’t make it in time to see Tie Han one last time.
The bullets that struck Tie Han were confirmed to have been fired by police guns. The two officers who initially engaged in the shootout with the suspect didn’t see Tie Han enter the taxi. They had assumed there were only the driver and a female hostage inside. Similarly, the officers at the roadblock near Ocean Park, who had been alerted, believed the taxi contained only two hostages.
When the taxi broke through the roadblock and stopped, Tie Han struggled with the suspect for the gun. The taxi driver and the female hostage took the opportunity to escape. Although the driver informed the police about a third person in the car, the officers didn’t hear him. It was dark at the scene, and with Tie Han and the suspect grappling in the back seat, the two officers fired into the taxi from a distance, unaware of Tie Han’s presence. The suspect was shot three times and died on the spot; Tie Han was struck twice.
Tie Han was killed by his own colleagues’ bullets. His life’s dream was to be a good police officer, yet in a cruel twist of fate, he died at the hands of police guns. What an absurd and tragic ending to a life.
At Tie Han’s funeral, I saw his body. His left wrist still bore the red string—a symbol of his and Meng Meng’s vow. Prophetic in its tragedy, they could only hope to reunite as a couple in their next lives.
“Meng Meng—” I struggled to find words to comfort her.
She raised a hand to stop me and, with tears in her eyes, looked at the red string on her own wrist. “He’ll recognize me in the next life. We’ll meet again then.”
My heart ached, and I couldn’t hold back my sobs.
“I took this watch with me to Vancouver. I should have left it for him,” she wept.
“He hasn’t disappeared. Nothing truly disappears in this world—it only transforms into something else. Perhaps he’s now the dust on your skin,” I said.
She glanced at the back of her hand and said, “Then let him stay here, on my hand.”
Xiao Jue came to the funeral alone. It had been over a year since I last saw him. He walked over to me.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Other than what happened with Tie Han, I’ve been fine,” I replied.
“Do you still hate me?” he asked.
I looked at him for a long time before saying, “I don’t feel anything anymore.”
I had thought I’d never be able to forget him, but now, the person lingering in my heart was someone else. Even though he was nowhere to be found, I knew he was the one I truly loved. He hadn’t disappeared from this world.
“Thank you,” I said to Xiao Jue.
“Thank me?” He looked puzzled.
“You taught me what love truly is. If someone loves you, they won’t take away your dignity.”
He looked deeply ashamed.
It was clear that he was no longer my poison.
I asked Meng Meng for the address of the supermarket in Vancouver where she had seen someone resembling Gao Hai Ming. I took seven days of leave and flew to Vancouver to look for him.
It was snowing in Vancouver. Every morning, I waited outside the supermarket until it closed at night. If he were there, he would show up.
I asked every cashier if they had seen him. To them, all Chinese people looked alike; none of them remembered him.
I left a note on the supermarket’s bulletin board, hoping he would see it.
When my vacation ended, I had to leave.
Meng Meng returned to the stage, singing her new song, “Red String.” She broke down in tears as she performed. Perhaps Tie Han had transformed into one of those tears.
At least they could love each other in the next life. But for me and Gao Hai Ming, I wasn’t even sure if we’d meet again in this life.
One day, I went to visit Gao Hai Ming’s home. The maid let me in. Everything in the house was just as it had been before he left. The Wild Weasel jet still stood quietly by the bedside.
0 Comments