LUHAN

I groan as I awaken to the sound of my cellphone ringing, its reverberations piercing my eardrums like miniature swords. I flinch, not wanting to open my eyes, for fear that the bright, white light of the midday sun would only make my searing headache worse. Drinking that Malort was a very, very bad idea. I groan again, forcing my eyelids to raise while reaching for my phone. The screen slowly comes into focus, flashing a notification. An unknown number?

"Wei?" I ask while picking up, clearing my dry throat. "Who is this?"

"Luhan, this is Junkai- don't hang up!" The boy adds in the last part right as my finger hovers over the "End Call" button. I roll my eyes.

"What do you want? To rub in your good news about Xiulei before some sneaky gou-zai posts it all over the web?" I can't help the bitterness in my words. "Took you long enough to make her your girlfriend... more than a year. Congratulations."

From the other end of the line, I hear Junkai sigh. "Is that why you haven't been calling her?"

I feel the anger inside my chest building, about to explode. "What's it to you if I call her or not?" My voice is sharper than I intended it to be. "Besides, as her boyfriend, wouldn't you want me to stay away?"

"Luhan. I'm not her boyfriend." I blink, caught off-guard by his words.

"Not her boy- then what the hell are you??"

I hear Junkai's small, sad chuckle from the other end of the line. "I'll admit it; I did like her, and I was jealous of you. She rejected me and chose you instead; that's why I told you what I did that November night. Before you get the wrong idea, though, let me make it clear that I won't apologize for it; I don't owe you anything. I'm only giving you this call as my apology to Xiulei."

"She rejected you? Wait. No. Your apology to Xiulei... what did you do to her??" I hear the harsh accusation in my voice. 

"It's not like that!" The boy protests quickly. "It's just... it's just that a lot has happened in the past year and her life has turned upside down. And I, being the person that's keeping her away from you, should back away. She needs her medicine now, and not just her pain reliever."

My brain swims in confusion as I run my hands through my unkempt bangs, pushing them away from my eyes in a desperate attempt to understand. "Do you even hear what you're saying? Medicine... pain reliever... what the hell are you even talking about?"

Junkai sighs again, impatient. "Xiulei's mother died, Luhan. One year to this day. It was lung cancer. She's been waiting for your call since November; her mother had a seizure and was diagnosed the night I hung up on you. Her roommate told me that she talks in her sleep, calling out your name, crying. That's the only time she ever cries anymore." He pauses. "She's been waiting for her ge all this time, Luhan, but you didn't call, not even once."

I feel my eyes widen in shock as Junkai's words run through my brain. Mother died... lung cancer... waiting for your call... The guilt churns in my stomach. Oh my ing god, I screwed up. To think I was being such an idiot-

"Why did you just tell me this now??" I hear the anger in my voice turn to panic. "How is she? Where is she? I need to go find her, I-"

"Calm down." Junkai cuts in. "I only found out from her roommate Soomyeon today. She called and said she was worried about Xiulei; she got an internship for the next year in Shanghai and is visiting the place where she'll work the day after tomorrow. She left California on a plane yesterday, and Soomyeon was saying how she hadn't been eating or sleeping well because her mother's anniversary is today. She was worried about her traveling alone-"

"She's coming to Shanghai then? Can I see her? Tell me where to find her..."

Junkai chuckles. "I knew you'd say that. I told Xiulei before she left that I'd send one of my friends to pick her up in Shanghai. Your promotional tour there is all over my feed, so I figured you could do it... plus it'll give you guys time to talk, and you can take care of her." He pauses. "She should be landing this afternoon at three in Pudong Airport. That's in-"

I look down at my screen for the time. "That's in an hour. ... I got to go, Junkai." Quickly ending the call, I rush to my closet and pull on a coat, sweater, and jeans, all the while making a beeline for the door. Inside my chest, my heart is pounding hard, its pace erratic.

I'm sorry Xiulei. I'm coming, and I won't leave you again. Not for the world.    

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

XIULEI

I stand at the ticket counter, staring up at the words on the screen. One seat left, flight to Luoping. I think of my mother's letter that sits inside my bag, unopened. I think of the tour of the company I was designated to intern at, which was scheduled for the day after tomorrow; though I was supposed to check in to my hotel by tonight, I still had about thirty two hours before I would be considered officially late. Besides, I could probably even make it back by two am tonight, if I had to.

No more excuses, Xiulei. It's been a year. You need to go.

Still, even knowing this, a part of me is afraid. The letter... this is the last thing she has to say to me... what would she say? The question has haunted me since she'd gone. 

in a breath, I step towards the counter, barring myself from the questions, the emotions, the ache in the hole inside my chest. "One ticket to Luoping, please." When the attendant hands over the slip of paper, it feels like a heavyweight in my hands. I stare down at it, at the familiar Air China logo and the small, black font. Luoping. Mom always wanted to go there...

The flight passes in a hazy fit of restless sleep, filled with nightmares that fade from one to another whenever I wake up. By the time I land, I feel exhausted, so much so that getting a cab to the Luoping canola fields seems to be the hardest thing in the world. Heck, talking feels tiring. Smiling, even more so. 

When I finally make it to the fields, the sun is about to set. The return flight to Shanghai is at eleven; that gives me about an hour here and an hour on the road back to the airport. Sighing, I make my way to the center of the sea of yellow flowers, looking out at the groups of colorful tourists, dressed in bright coats and scarves, bustling to pack up and get back to their hotels. The sky above them frames them in a halo of red, the painted dusk that my mother had always loved. 

Think of it, Xiulei... a red-streaked sky surrounding an ocean of yellow and green. Isn't that beautiful? I see her smile and her shining eyes, looking out into the distance as if she could see the canola fields painted on our walls. 

Yea, Ma. It's beautiful.

Sitting down, I pull the envelope out of my bag, staring down at the worn paper and shaking characters. I wonder how heavy that pen must have felt, how long each word must have taken. My fingers press against each one, a silent token, a goodbye.

Ma... did you really want to leave me behind? Is that why you didn't want more time? I taste the salt falling from my eyes, the metallic blood on my lips from biting down too hard. Ma...

My hands shake as I untie the envelope. My fingertips graze a thin sheet of paper, and I pull it out slowly. The ink had stained through, leaving behind black blotches, infinitely dark against the white backdrop.

Xiulei,
First things first... you should know by now that I left the apartment and all my savings under your name. Hopefully then you'd be able to slow down a little, and not worry so much about the bills and your tuition. This is the last thing that Ma can do for you.
Now, on to secondary things (don't blame Ma for thinking about money first; I know how hard you work, and I know how much you will need it in California). Right now, if you followed my instructions instead of ignoring them like you usually do, you'd be in Luoping, hopefully under that beautifully painted sky and bright yellow of the fields. It would've been a year since I left. Maybe you would be stronger now, braver now... maybe you would smile more. Ma wants you to smile, okay? No more crying; you were always too sentimental.
And.
Well.
In any case, what needs to be said must be said.
Xiulei... I'm so, so sorry I could not stay longer by your side.
I wasn't a good Ma. I couldn't protect you or shelter you after daddy passed away. I couldn't stay healthy or strong enough to see my daughter graduate, to see her fall in love, to look after her grandchildren...
Please know that I didn't want to leave you behind.
Please forgive me... forgive that I wasn't strong enough to chase after your footsteps. 
Some people say children are like kites, and their parents are like the people on the ground, letting them fly higher by holding tightly on to the string and running against the wind. But I've always known you were different... you aren't a kite, Xiulei. You're a balloon, capable of flying higher and higher, even without me... even in spite of me. You showed me that when you went to Beijing by yourself, and then showed me that again when you got into Stanford.
Ma is proud of you. I know that you will make it to where you want to be in life. I know you are strong enough to make it there on your own. If I let go of the string, you will only fly higher, go further.
And then, from the ground, I'll wave my goodbye.
I will always love you, Xiulei. But it's time to let go of that string. Look at the beautiful sky around you. It's all yours now; you aren't rooted like those canola flowers any longer. Go on; fly. Higher and higher.
Ma will always be there below you, waving up at you.
Goodbye, Xiulei. 

And then she was gone. In the silence, the wind runs her silken fingers against the yellow flowers and past the countless hill mounds, finally letting them weave through my hair. Her thumbs graze my cheeks, wiping away the tears clinging to my eyelashes. I stare up at the sky, the red clouds now faded into a light purple hue, almost as if reminescent of the day that had passed. I can see stars just past the whispy trails of smoke from a nearby village, shining brightly down at me, waving. I wave back. Something heavy that had rested inside my chest now settles, a load that gets shrugged off seemingly so easily. The corners of my mouth tilt upwards in spite of the wet drops still stinging my eyes; my hand stretches towards that blinking star.

Goodbye, Ma.