Work Text:
When Qiao Fan was asked to give Qiao Man—who was as dear to her as a sister she had never had—a gift to remember her by whenever longing overwhelmed her, she turned her entire room upside down searching for something worthy among her personal belongings. Various thoughts and opinions swirled in her head, and she realized that whatever she gave her would not be befitting of her new status as Governor Wei's wife; for she already possessed the finest and best types of clothing and jewelry.
That day when they parted before each of their marriages, and she ran away with Bi Zhi, Qiao Man made sure that she took with her the most precious things of her trousseau, by making her believe that she wanted those things for herself as a keepsake—for the more precious the thing was to her, the more it expressed the depth of her love for her.
And that indeed happened; her best dresses, shoes, and accessories accompanied her on her journey, except for the konghou instrument. Qiao Man had teased her then that she loved the instrument, but Qiao Fan could not bring herself to part with it. In the end, nothing was left with her from the instrument except its strings, after Man Man cut them with all the dedication she was accustomed to from her, and gave them to her before departure.
Qiao Fan’s gaze turned toward her own konghou, which Bi Zhi had restored for her, and despite what she had been told not to do what she was thinking of, she did not care. She sat before the instrument, slowly gripped the scissors, and extended her hand toward the strings, paused for a brief moment, took a breath, and then, resolutely, cut the string with a smile.
Man Man had always done so much for her and sacrificed for her happiness willingly, and Qiao Fan had not forgotten... She had once acted out of selfishness to protect what was dear to her, and with this gift, she hoped to convey to Man Man her apology, and also her deep gratitude for everything.
Qiao Fan sat on a cushion on the floor beside Qiao Man, with the konghou before them. Qiao Man wanted to play on it to express how moved she was by the gift, and Qiao Fan—who still could not believe they had taken a step forward after the recent estrangement—encouraged her to do so, with a heart beating hard and corners of her lips rising uncontrollably. Qiao Man began to play with her clumsy and faltering strumming, touching the strings with ignorance.
With the hesitant notes of the instrument, sounds intertwined in Qiao Fan’s imagination, evoking the rustling of trees swaying in the wind, the chirping of birds, and the refreshing scents of the orchard. Sunlight bathed her body in warmth, its brightness spreading over nature to reflect on Man Man’s light-colored dress as she swayed in her dance, on the nearby pool of rippling, glistening water, and on the konghou before her as she played on its strings. Those seemed like very distant days; they were peaceful times when they lived under the safety of childhood, where comfort and happiness were their companions, breathing and laughing freely.
While Qiao Fan was trying to teach her the simplest basics, and as she was holding her fingers, her palm caressed that rough and hardened texture—the silent imprint of her responsibilities toward her husband’s Wei clan: from reading and writing letters, organizing invitations and social events, to caring for her husband by sewing various garments for him. Qiao Fan sighed deeply, and a single tear slipped from beneath her eyelid until it landed on her cheek, so she quickly wiped it away as she burst into a clear laugh with Man Man, a laugh that came from the depths of her chest. With a certainty that began to bloom in her heart, she thought that perhaps... perhaps the remnants of past memories were still clinging, refusing but to bind them together despite what had broken.
Qiao Fan looked into her eyes, reaching out to take her hand as she spoke: “Man Man, I have never forgotten the meaning of your sacrifice for me. And these strings, do not think they are a restraint...” She pressed lightly on her hand: “You are the only one... whom I wish with all my heart to express my feelings toward in this way...” She whispered through a lump in her throat: “Will you accept it from me, Man Man?”
Tears rolled down Man Man’s cheeks as she answered her in her gentle voice, whose calmness was shaken by her staggered breaths: “I have thought for a very long time... and I was able to understand you and understand your reasons...” She raised her hand to wipe her tears: “I do not blame you, but... I wish that next time, each of us would give the other something simple and ordinary. Do you understand me, A-Fan?”
With wetness touching her cheeks, and with trembling breaths and lips parted in a smile, Qiao Fan nodded her head. She understood...
She did not know who initiated it first, but she found herself lunging to embrace Man Man, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck, trying to stifle her escaping sobs. From that close distance, Man Man’s soft weeping blended with her heartbeats, as she returned the embrace and patted her shoulder with tenderness—the very same tenderness that had long enveloped her touch when they were children.
Qiao Fan wasted no time; no sooner had they pulled back from each other than she raised her trembling hand slowly toward her hair, untied the ordinary cloth ribbon from it, and grasped it in her hand, so strands of her hair flowed down and fell upon her shoulder.
She approached Man Man, who looked at her with an approving and grateful gaze, as if the same idea had occurred to her, her sweet smile gracing her features as she, likewise, untied her hair ribbon, letting it cascade down her back. As Qiao Fan held and tied Man Man’s hair—in the exact same way she had always tied it for her in their childhood—its familiar, long-known scent drifted into her nose.
In turn, Man Man tied her hair with her ribbon; the warmth of the palms of her hands and the precision of her movements on her hair flooded her chest, for the first time in a long time, Qiao Fan was able to relax her shoulders and release a long, deep breath, as though an old weight had lifted from her shoulders.
They stepped back a little and each nodded to the other. Qiao Fan placed her hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh, but she soon let it slip when Man Man joined her in laughing.