Chapters 4-5
5
The Metropolitan Museum of Art is located on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, New York City, in the Upper East Side, a hub of cultural landmarks and adjacent to Central Park. Spanning over 100,000 square meters, the museum, according to official sources, houses more than three million artifacts, ranging from rare ancient objects to modern and contemporary works of art, both domestic and international. For history and art lovers, this place is nothing short of a dream paradise.
The museum has three floors. After entering, the four of them started by exploring the exhibition area on the first floor. Except for Qiao Ruo, the other three had been here before, but they all seemed to be in high spirits.
Qiao Ruo felt like a country bumpkin visiting the Grand View Garden. She stood there motionless, and even just glancing around, she was deeply moved. He Yajun held her hand, giving her brief introductions from time to time.
“There are nearly twenty pavilions of varying sizes here. I’m particularly interested in the Temple of Dendur in Egypt, and the Asian section upstairs.” He Yajun’s tone was persuasive, reminding Qiao Ruo of her university professor. “The Temple of Dendur was built before Christ, over two thousand years ago. It was originally built on the banks of the Nile River and was moved from Egypt in the last century. It was dismantled into many pieces and then transported to the United States to be reassembled. Isn’t that amazing?”
The temple is about eight or nine meters high. Qiao Ruo observed the reliefs and inscriptions on it and could almost see the busy scene of people carving it more than two thousand years ago: "Yes, it's hard to imagine that it's still here today. Temples are usually used to worship gods. What god does it worship?"
"In ancient Egyptian mythology, Osiris and his wife—some say his wife was also his sister—Isis, were gods who ruled over the Nile River's waters, the land, agricultural abundance, and even life and death. Osiris, after his death, became king of the underworld, where the souls of the dead were judged, and he could determine whether someone could live forever after death. His wife, Isis, resurrected him after his death and, after he went to the underworld, also went there, becoming a goddess of the underworld, in charge of life and death. The ancient Egyptians placed great importance on life and death, so this couple was highly revered."
As He Yajun recounted this story, her expression gentle, her eyes sparkling, and she seemed quite different from usual. Qiao Ruo realized that although she had liked him for many years, she didn't really understand him.
“Of course,” He Yajun chuckled, amused by her attentive listening. “Myths have been passed down for thousands of years, and different people can tell different versions, so the details can’t be guaranteed to be consistent. However, the duties of the two gods I just mentioned are generally recognized, and their status is indeed quite high. Think about it, how many people in this world are not afraid of death? Isis can resurrect the dead, and Osiris can determine whether someone is immortal, so they naturally receive great worship and respect.”
"Then... do you believe them?" Qiao Ruo asked abruptly.
He Yajun didn't answer her immediately. He stared at the temple's portico for a moment, lost in thought: "I can only say that I hope the people I care about, but who are no longer here, can reappear in front of me and give me a chance to say goodbye properly."
Qiao Ruo was stunned, but she knew she couldn't ask him anything. She held his hand in return, wanting to comfort him. After carefully choosing her words, she whispered, "If one day I'm gone, I hope that those who love me can forget me as soon as possible. Only by letting the past be the past can we encounter more wonderful people and things, and live happy and joyful days."
He snapped out of his daze, his pupils seemed to contract slightly, and then he laughed: "It's just a myth, don't take it too seriously."
After wandering around elsewhere, they went to the second floor and saw the museum's prized oil painting, "Washington Crossing the Delaware River." He Yajun was also very clear about the origin of this painting, but Qiao Ruo was thinking about something else and listened somewhat absentmindedly.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Ah, I have a deep impression of the Delaware River."
"Why?"
"Because you once sent me a picture of it," Qiao Ruo said with a smile. "Do you remember? It was during our first semester of freshman year, when we were chatting online, that you sent it to me."
He Yajun thought for several seconds and nodded: "Yes, I remember."
"Ya-jun, if you have some free time someday, could you come with me to the university you went to? I'd like to take a look."
"Sure, let's go tomorrow. It only takes two or three hours to drive there."
"Thank you, Ya Jun," she snuggled closer to him and smiled sweetly, "You're so kind."
Just then, a soft cough came from behind them. The two turned around and found that Hong Yantao and Hong Mengqi had also come up at some point.
Qiao Ruo quickly stood up straight and gave a forced smile.
Hong Yantao gave Qiao Ruo a deep look, then looked away and said to He Yajun, "Yajun, Mengqi just twisted her ankle. I'm going to go back to the hotel with her first. You two can take your time."
"Are you alright?" Qiao Ruo and He Yajun asked in unison.
Hong Mengqi shook her head: "It's nothing, it's not serious."
"Then I'll see you off?" He Yajun said, gesturing for them to walk out.
Hong Yantao shook his head and pressed his shoulder: "We can just take a taxi back. Qiao Ruo has come all this way, so you should spend some time with her."
Qiao Ruo waved her hand and said, "It's okay. Anyway, I don't have any artistic talent. I'm just here to see something new."
"It's just a minor injury, not a broken leg. You don't need to take me there. My brother is here with me," Hong Mengqi said nonchalantly.
After the siblings left, Qiao Ruo and He Yajun continued to stroll around for several more hours, visiting several of the main exhibition halls.
By the time they left the museum, it was already dark, and checking the time, it was past seven o'clock. The temperature was several degrees lower than during the day, and He Yajun adjusted the scarf around Qiao Ruo's neck.
Qiao Ruo was wearing high-heeled leather boots, and her feet were quite tired after walking all afternoon. He Yajun noticed her fatigue and said, "Let's go to Central Park another day. Many tourists visit Chinatown. How about we go to Chinatown first to find a Chinese restaurant for lunch, and then go home?"
Qiao Ruo was more than happy to agree. Western food was delicious, but if she ate it all the time, her Chinese stomach would protest. So she readily agreed.
After she got into the car, she let out a long sigh of relief. As He Yajun started the car, she laughed and said, "It seems like every time we meet, you're wearing high heels."
"There's nothing I can do, I'm too short. High heels are my savior. I can't even imagine how I would feel if there were no high heels in the world."
Her voice was languid, and to him it had a unique charm.
"I told you, your height is a good match for mine."
She grinned: "Okay, to be honest, on rainy days I'd rather go through the trouble of carrying my own umbrella."
He paused for a moment, then burst into laughter: "I hope you don't hold a grudge. Don't worry, if it rains, I'll hold an umbrella for you. As your boyfriend, I'm sure I'll be there for you."
She turned slightly to look at him, not wanting to continue discussing height, and changed the subject: "Ya Jun, I suddenly want to ask you a question, I hope you don't feel pressured."
"?" He glanced at her briefly and gave her an encouraging look.
"Now, have I become someone you... care about?"
"Of course," he answered decisively, without the slightest hesitation.
She was surprised, then smiled and said in a serious tone, "Ya Jun, you are also someone I care about—someone I care about very much."
How much do you care?
"Hmm..." She was stumped by the question and didn't know how to measure it.
"Should I multiply my feelings for you by a thousand?"
“No,” she answered decisively, “I think that now, we just need to multiply it by a hundred. What do you think?”
The car stopped at a red light. He Yajun turned to look at her and saw that she was smiling with her eyes crinkling. Her whole face was radiant, which was very different from before. She was as innocent as a child and as sweet as a young girl. Most importantly, he could see the trust she had in him, which made him feel dizzy and lightheaded.
"Maybe it won't reach a hundred." His voice was deep and penetrating.
"How much is that?" Her curiosity was piqued, and her heart began to race.
He pondered for a moment before saying, "Maybe a fraction of a percent will suffice."
"How could that be? I don't believe it."
"Let's verify it then."
How can this be verified?
"Do you want to kiss me now?" he suddenly asked.
She simply couldn't keep up with his pace; she opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"You're hesitating, which means you don't want to kiss me right now." He said with great certainty.
"...It's not that I don't want to."
"But I want to kiss you, I really want to."
Her face flushed, and she was about to say, "If you want to kiss me, then kiss me," when she heard him chuckle softly: "The answer is clear. Obviously, I care about you more."
“Although I don’t understand the logical connection between caring and wanting to kiss,” her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would jump out of her chest, but she kept her face calm, only slightly raising her chin, “I agree with your logic.”
“Qiao Ruo,” he said after a few seconds of silence, “I want to kiss you, now.” This time he emphasized his words.
She frowned slightly, feigning difficulty: "Does it have to be now?"
“Hmm,” he gripped the steering wheel, clenching and unclenching his fists, “but I still have to drive, what should I do?”
She glanced at the red light with less than ten seconds left ahead, loosened her seatbelt, leaned forward, cupped his face, and kissed his lips forcefully. After a brief pause, she quickly withdrew.
"Honey, is this okay?" She tilted her head to look at him.
He looked at her too, but he didn't say a word, whether it was because the green light was about to turn on, or because he was stunned by her kiss.
After the car drove off smoothly, Qiao Ruo felt a noticeable acceleration. Looking out the window at the towering buildings and dazzling lights, she felt no sense of being a stranger in a foreign land, even though the streets and faces were all unfamiliar.
The melancholy I felt before because it was impossible to marry him miraculously and completely dissipated at this moment.
As long as he cares about her, she and he have a home.
They didn't go to Chinatown in the end. He didn't explain, and she didn't ask. It was as if they had reached a tacit understanding, both eager to get home immediately.
Once inside, he didn't turn on the light. He patiently waited for her to change her shoes before immediately picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom.
Even in the darkness, he could pinpoint her lips, and his kiss was hotter than ever before, melting not only her but also himself.
"Yes, but I want more."
Before another kiss landed, he gave her an answer.
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