The Moon on a Frozen Lake

10: Crossroads

Walking along a path lined by fragrant osmanthus trees,

I reach an arched bridge floating atop a sea of lilies.

Across, on the water's edge, a beguiling future beckons,

Yet next to me, the past clings, not quite ready for me to move on.

--- J., 2019

There was no relief to be found in this city. Since most people should have returned to their various hometowns to celebrate the lunar new year, he'd driven Yingyue to the hospital near her house expecting it to be almost empty. Contrary to his expectations, however, the place teemed with people. Like ants, they crawled up and down the white hallways intent on finishing whatever they had to do in the quickest time possible.

He should have known better.

This was Shanghai, after all, a city that was more than double the population of Seoul and tripled that of New York.

Jihoon shifted in his seat at the far corner of the reception area, where he and Yingyue waited for her turn to be called. There was something about the sharp, distinct smell of disinfectant that made his skin crawl. It brought back memories of a time when these sterile walls kept him prisoner. A faraway place, a different time. All best forgotten.

Wanting to distract himself, he observed the nurses manning different workstations constantly shuffling through papers and fielding questions from patients of all ages. In front of him, an elderly man watched a video from his phone sans earphones. Sound blasted from the screen competing with the rest of the hubbub.

Ah, China.

Years ago, this behavior would have annoyed the hell out of him, but after months in this city, he only shook his head and smiled. He remembered the day he arrived in Shanghai, his first time coming back to his mother's hometown as an adult. The moment he stepped on to the tarmac, he was assaulted by a cacophony of sights, smells, and sounds. When he stepped inside the arrival hall, he was swept away by the flood of people rushing towards immigration and the world beyond. Having lived a few years in Seoul and New York, he wasn't a stranger to crowds, but everything in Shanghai was at a grander scale. His experiences in the city had been at times overwhelming, but exciting as well. A new start. A new life. All in a place that was at once so strange yet so familiar.

Something brushed against his thigh.

"Sorry," Yingyue mumbled, repositioning her leg away from his.

"No worries." Jihoon cast a worried glance at the woman next to him, wondering how all this was affecting her. Yingyue looked out the window, ears covered by the olive green noise-cancellation headphones he'd lent her. From afar, she was the picture of serenity, spine ramrod straight and face still amidst the surrounding commotion. Only Jihoon saw the way her clenched hands repeatedly dug against her thighs.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Hmm?" She turned towards him, pushing the headphones back.

The movement revealed the delicate shell of her ear and the graceful line of her neck. Before his thoughts went to inappropriate directions, he said, "I was just wondering how you're holding up. Everything okay?"

"Ah! I-I'm fine. It's... going better than expected."

She cast him a tiny smile, which he returned. "Good. You're doing so well."

"Thank you. Really."

"I didn't do anything. This is all you. I wish I was half as brave."

She shook her head. "I'm not brave at all. All this trouble is also my own doing anyway." She smiled again, but this time, a shadow of bitterness dulled its radiance. "If I was brave, I would have dealt with grief better like any normal person. Instead, I chose to hide from the world like a coward."