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SUMMARY: Conclusion to story based on Radthorne's art.

What I truly want? Hell, like every other man what I want is to live forever. I want life to go on and on, never get boring, always be a challenge, and my body to remain as it is so I can do whatever I want to do whenever I want to do it.
Funny, that is pretty much what she is offering me, at least as best I understand what she is offering me.
Walking from the kitchen through the house to the entry, I arrived in the center room where the bottle gourd sat on its gourd. What was it again? "Spring may last ten thousand generations." But that artist had a family in mind when he prepared this symbol. What Marissa seems to have in mind is she and I as the only family, mother father, grandparents, children, grandchildren all rolled into the two of us.
For ten thousand generations.
That's a long time to live with one human being. I know that is precisely what I hoped to enjoy with Marissa and I meant it. There was no dissembling in the dream. She was all I ever wanted for a companion, a lover, a friend. Thinking back on it, maybe the dream was based on the underlying certainty that it could not happen. Nobody lives forever. There was a safety net, a sanity clause buried in the dream. We were going to die so forever would last only as long as we did.
The memory of Marissa lying next to me came crashing back, consuming all my awareness so that I wandered about the house without realizing any destination. Marissa laughing. Crying. Dancing. Turning to give me the look. Smiling at me from across the room. Marissa who made my day simply by returning from wherever she had been, the sound of her entry through the door filling me with joy, peace, content.
How I missed her!
Standing at the front gate, the path home patiently waiting, I realized that what I was thinking at that moment was a question: what would Marissa say to all this? Tears fell as I realized I could know the answer to that question just by asking Huilang. At that moment, I knew that Huilang was Marissa and Marissa Huilang. The change in appearance, small though it was, didn't seem important. What became important to me was the certainty Marissa waited for me back in the Refuge.
Almost, I turned to run back to her arms. Almost.
For ten thousand generations!
Again, I turned. Now, I re-traced my steps, taking care to examine every room in the Refuge. My journey eventually carried me back to the garden while, not surprisingly, I did not encounter Huilang at any point as if she would avoid me until I had reached a decision.
I walked the path, view point to viewpoint, marveling at the plants, the rocks, the water. How many times could I complete this journey in ten thousand generations? That question seemed to recur as often as the promise of Marissa did.
Contemplation was never my strong suit. Learning I managed but in broad strokes, concepts without details. Even in my reporting, I did the surface stuff, left the analyses to others more competent and more temperamentally suited to the task. I always found the "here's what's happening" more interesting than the "here's why what's happening is happening" kind of story.