The Bloodstained Petals of Hyacinth

Chapter One: Hedgehog’s Dilemma

Ever since Qiao Ling got her power from Li Tianxi, she felt like falling. There was no earth beneath her feet to hold her body. It was all an endless hole with worms trying to make her skin itch. She felt that time had become as slippery in her hands as the bodies of those worms. It was as if someone had licked it: ran through by warmth as the tongue pressed into her white skin, then was left with shivers by the saliva.

It was the doorbell that made Qiao Ling come back to the present. With shaking legs, she made it to the door and opened it. Before her, a tall, slim figure was standing. The sunset made the woman’s hair look gold and sweet like honey, however, her sharp eyes startled Qiao Ling.

‘W-who are you, miss?’ asked the landlady. A pale smile appeared on the woman’s face, and light faded from her hazel coloured irises, no longer carrying the power to frighten whoever glanced at her.

‘So you don’t remember me?’ she said in a low voice. Qiao Ling sensed a certain sadness in it, but she laughed it off.

‘Our shop has a lot of customers. In case we met before, I might remember if you tell me your story.’

‘You want my story, huh?’ laughed the woman. She then took a step forward, leaned in to reach Qiao Ling’s ears and whispered: ‘You might have seen me in your nightmares, little girl.’

Blood rushed into Qiao Ling’s cheeks and ears. It made them burn both with pleasure and embarrassment. The latter made the landlady feel like it was a crime not to remember this woman. Like a kid caught in mischief, without knowing the gravity of their act. Qiao Ling: a child who was innocent by nature yet was tempted by sin. However, Wang Qing looked as if she were at once sacred and sinful. Even her scent carried duality: a woody fragrance followed by the powdery redolence of lilies. The roguery against her felt deadly nevertheless. It left Qiao Ling with curiosity and remorse to find out who this woman was. To remember her. Feeling the warm breath on her neck made goosebumps appear on her body. The closeness frightened her, so she quickly took a step back, and with widened eyes, she looked at the mysterious woman.

‘My name is Wang Qing. I came to develop some photos,’ said the woman, already back to her gracious standing position. Waiting for no answer, she stepped into the photo studio.

Awakening from her shock, Qiao Ling closed the door and ran to the counter to take care of the photos. Wang Qing put a small film on the table and slid it closer to Qiao Ling. Before lifting her two peace fingers, she shifted her gaze to the landlady.

‘You don’t have to rush, I can come back for it later.’ Wang Qing let go of the film but did not break the eye contact. She looked at Qiao Ling as if they had not seen each other for a long time, and there was a certain familiarity in her hazel irises, too. Something that could only be understood by a few – those who have been once lost in the maze of time. For some reason, she appeared in Qiao Ling’s eyes as someone liminal: standing on the border of two worlds. She had an aura that told people she came from far away – somewhere consciousness had no place to exist. Wang Qing looked shattered and tired, and Qiao Ling had a soft spot for the wrecked ones. For that, a seed of thought planted itself in her mind – the thought to save Wang Qing from the suffering. Even if that meant savin her from herself.

‘It is hard to deal with memories. Even if they are someone else’s. You might... see things you do not want to see,’ said Wang Qing in a low voice, almost whispering. ‘But of course, you would know that.’ This additional sentence felt like it bore no debate. Qiao Ling could not turn it into a light-hearted pun like before. It would have felt like a violation. The more she contemplated Wang Qing, the greater was the urge to ask: Have we met before? However, Qiao Ling was not sure which answer would scare her more. Suddenly, the thought of losing Wang Qing left her in horror. The same fear she felt when she saw Cheng Xiaoshi die in Li Tianxi’s memories. She felt paralysed. Panic formed in her gut and slowly made its way to the brain, striding through every vertebrae.

‘Are you okay, little girl?’ asked Wang Qing with worry in her bones. Something has changed, and she had to figure out what before it was too late. Qiao Ling shook her head and took the film with a quick gesture as if she was snapped out of a dream – woken unexpectedly, left with slumber in her right eye.

‘Y-yes, umm, I will get the photos done as soon as possible. We will contact you when–’ she was cut off by Wang Qing, handing her a card.

‘My name card. Call me if you want to see me.’ The sharpness moved back into Wang Qing’s eyes, and if possible, it was more intense than before. She could have set a fire if she wanted. Burn a building with it.

Qiao Ling reached with both hands for the card, but before she could take it, Wang Qing grabbed her wrist. Her touch was warm, hot almost, as if fire was indeed burning inside of her body. Ready to fight, Qiao Ling tensed her muscles but was stopped by an unexpected force. Memories started to appear in front of her eyes again. Just like on the day Li Tianxi died. She saw Wang Qing. As a child. As a high school girl getting bullied. She saw Cheng Weimin and Shao Yuanyuan. And then she saw herself with Wang Qing. Together. Talking, taking walks, holding hands... kissing. It was a life already lived. It happened once, but there was no trace of it now. Not in her memory. Then she saw herself as if she was in Wang Qing’s body. She felt emotions that did not belong to her. Adoration, fear and love. She heard her name, Wang Qing calling her, but it was so far away. Lifetimes away.

‘qi... ing... Qiao... Ling... Qiao Ling!’ Wang Qing’s voice was now loud and clear. She was truly calling for Qiao Ling. Her breathing was unsteady, and she still stood holding the woman’s hand. It felt sweaty now. ‘Are you okay? You look... lost.’

‘Qingqing...’ murmured Qiao Ling. She was not sure what these few letters meant. She did not even know she said them out loud – that she knew them. Yet, they managed to make life climb back into Wang Qing’s eyes for a moment. Compared to the oblivion she felt before, being remembered made her sharp edges soften up. She let hope be planted in her heart. But before the little sprout could grow, it was mercilessly torn as Qiao Ling freed her hand from the hold and showed Wang Qing out without an explanation.

After the door closed, she was left all alone. Again. She knew something was wrong, even though she could not name what. However, Wang Qing was sure of one thing: the past had been altered. She sat down on the pavement with her back to the shop’s wall. She just noticed panic has taken over her, leaving her in a sweat with unsteady breathing. She truly hated this state: how she was unable to control herself. She was taken away by her emotions – the things she knew better than anyone else as a psychotherapist. It was not the time to break down. Rather, she had no time. She needed to save Qiao Ling before it was too late.