Chapter 54 Zizi
Zizi
I don’t remember you.
Who knew four simple words could feel so devastating?
Zizi shifted on his chaise, angling his head to get a better look at the love of his life, who was playing fetch-the-sparkly-ball
with his cat.
He had spent the last hour trying to jog Rui’s memory, hoping that she was only momentarily disoriented from her underworld
journey. He’d recounted how they met, their work together, some of the more heated arguments they’d had over the years about
life and the philosophy of magic. He had made her favorite coffee and waved the ghostie earrings in her face.
He’d even blasted what he secretly thought of as their song through the speakers. They used to make up lyrics for the chorus together, because while the tune had an upbeat tempo and
was fun to dance to, if you listened carefully, the love story being told through the lyrics was incredibly sad. Past Rui
used to treat it like a competition, trying to one-up him with funnier, happier, sillier lyrics. But present-day Rui didn’t
remember any of this. At least she said his earrings were cute.
“How can you not remember the Fourth King if you remember going to his Court? Or should I say, my Court?” Zizi had asked, after they exchanged notes on her time in the underworld. He was insulted that she remembered Raymond but not himself.
Rui’s face scrunched up in concentration, and she looked annoyed and adorable.
“I’ve got nothing,” she said. “He’s—I mean you—are a blank space when I try to recall any conversation I might’ve had with
you. Or him. It’s like you’re—he’s—ugh, this is too confusing.” She huffed. “What I’m trying to say is that Four-Zi is part of the scenery when I try to recall things. Like a blob of paint or a random splotch that doesn’t really do or add anything to the full picture.”
Zizi was incredulous. “Four-Zi? That’s a ridiculous sobriquet. And a blob? Never mind.”
Giving up on questioning her, he’d lain on his chaise to mope. However he sliced it, Rui’s selective amnesia was Zizi-shaped—and
Four-shaped, if you counted the fact that she remembered the key moments of her past life as Lei Ying but nothing about the King.
Was this all a twisted joke from the Elder Gods? Zizi didn’t think so. He had won their mahjong game fair and square, and
he couldn’t think of a reason why they would want to take Rui’s memories. Maybe it had to do with the ritual Rui had gone
through to get to the underworld. Rui had mentioned that her memories of that and what she and Madam Meng had spoken about
were hazy.
The Reverie had been empty when he’d arrived two days ago to look for Rui, and he’d found her alone in the tearoom. Zizi wished
he’d waited and interrogated Madam Meng before they’d left. He’d tried to contact her again, but there was no response, and
he didn’t want to leave his shophouse while Rui was still here. She’d eaten the breakfast he made and complimented his coffee.
Maybe he was delusional, but it felt like she wanted to be around him, and that gave him some hope.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
Zizi blinked. Rui had a magnificent scowl on her face. “Like what?” he said.
“Like you . . . like we’re . . . I—” Her scowl disappeared, and she blushed. “Forget it.”
She turned away and tossed the sparkly ball down the corridor. With a chirp, Mao bounded after it eagerly.
It struck Zizi suddenly that this could be the best scenario for the two of them. If he and Rui had been tied together because
of Four’s promise to Lei Ying, then Rui’s memory loss might have an explanation. If he had been erased from her heart and
she didn’t love him anymore, didn’t that mean the deal was off? That he had fulfilled it somehow? But he could still feel his love thread, and One seemed to believe that its presence was evidence of his enduring bond with Rui.
And if our souls are bound together in all worlds and lifetimes, won’t she fall for me again?
A shrill noise burst from Rui. “Are you talking about you and me?”
Had he said that last line out loud? He must’ve sounded like a creep. “I was thinking about Mao,” Zizi lied.
“Good,” she said, “because I’m not falling in love with some random guy just because he’s attractive and he cooks.”
Zizi beamed. “You think I’m hot?”
“Absolutely not!” she half screeched. “And I wouldn’t fall for you even if you were the last person alive—or dead—in either
realm.”
He was surprised by how much her words hurt. She doesn’t mean it, he told himself, only to realize he didn’t know that. Rui could very well mean it, and truth be told, it was better if she did.
He rolled off the chaise and went to the rear courtyard. His beloved wisteria tree greeted him, its lavish cascades of flowers
hanging down from curved branches like a beautiful veil hiding a shy maiden.
The ache in his chest was unfathomable. You have to let her go, he reminded himself. His time in the mortal realm was limited. He was here for a single reason. He had a duty to the underworld
and an agreement with the gods. He had to complete his task and return to his siblings.
If Rui had forgotten him and what they shared in this life and the previous, then his eventual absence would bring her no
pain. If she didn’t love him, she could still get her happy ending—just not with him.
He circled the tree, thoughts in disarray. There were other things that troubled him.
Lei Ying had been embroiled with Burning Flame, and somehow Rui had gotten entangled with Yiran.
Yiran’s entrance into all this triangulated what Zizi had assumed to be an interconnected fate between two souls.
Was the past haunting the present? Were there other threads that needed to be severed, knots that needed to be undone?
A petal brushed Zizi’s arm as it floated to the ground. He frowned at the vines of lilac and blue flowers. He had been gone
from this realm for so long that any vestiges of his mortal magic should have disappeared.
Why was the wisteria in full bloom?
He placed a hand on the rough bark.
A pulse. Like a beating heart. Traces of spiritual energy.
There was something keeping the wisteria alive.
“Are you all right?” Rui had come into the courtyard.
“Leave me alone,” Zizi said, his hand still on the bark. What could be in the tree? Had he buried something there?
Rui stood in front of him. Zizi wanted to look away, but he couldn’t bring himself to.
“You all right?” she said again. “You seem distressed.”
“I’m going through the five stages of grief because you’ve forgotten me.” It was the first thing that came to his mind.
“What stage are you at now?”
“Depression.”
“Perfect. Acceptance will come next.” She was teasing him.
“What do you want?” he said sullenly, trying not to smile. She’d always had that power over him.
Rui’s expression darkened. “I just got off the phone with Ada, who, by the way, seems to know you. Song Yiran is in trouble.”