Century - long Love in Prague

Spacetime distortion

Apologies, I just feel like you give me a very familiar vibe.

But I can't quite place where this sense of familiarity comes from.

If someone else had said this to Lin Xuenie, she might have brushed it off with a polite smile, inwardly scoffing at their outdated pickup line and uninspired acting.

But when a boy like this spoke such words to her with such sincerity, she couldn’t help but freeze, her eyes locked onto his blue eyes and that strikingly handsome face—one so memorable it would linger in her mind for a long time.

The dappled shadows of trees outside the window blurred, transforming into a vast, open grassland in her imagination.

Lin Xuenie was the first to snap out of the silence, smiling as she said, "My name is Lin Xuenie. I’m Chinese. Though, following local customs, I should introduce myself as Xuenie Lin. I’m certain we’ve never met before—otherwise, I would definitely remember you."

Hearing her words, the blond boy across from her laughed, as if acknowledging the truth in her statement. Yet his gaze remained fixed on her, as though he hadn’t given up on recalling any trace of memory related to the girl before him.

"Your name is beautiful."

Xuenie—the pronunciation was strikingly similar to the German word for "snow" (Schne).

During her studies in Germany, her classmates had no trouble remembering her name, often simply calling her Schnee.

"I study at the University of Munich. I just spent a few days visiting a friend in Berlin, and now I’m heading back to Dresden. What about you?"

"Until this semester ends, I’m studying at the Berlin Conservatory. But starting next semester, I’ll be at Charles University in Prague."

Mentioning her upcoming move to Prague, Lin Xuenie instantly lit up. With a bright smile, she launched into the story of how she’d fallen in love with Kafka, how she’d abandoned her flute major to chase after Kafka’s legacy, switching to German studies instead. Her animated storytelling and expressive delivery made the boy—who at first glance seemed reserved and distant—burst into laughter over a dozen times.

Not stopping there, Xuenie even recited passages from Kafka’s prose for him. If time had allowed, she would’ve played the symphonies she felt best matched those excerpts.

The boy, whose name was Eberhard, also shared stories about his life at the University of Munich.

Compared to the Berlin Conservatory where Xuenie had studied, this was one of Germany’s top universities.

Eberhard was majoring in physics—a department that had produced numerous Nobel laureates.

Now that was impressive.

He told her about the famous pipe slide at the University of Munich, and about the White Rose, the renowned student anti-war group during WWII, whose leaders, the Scholl siblings, were memorialized in an exhibition hall on campus.

Nearly two hours flew by. By the time they realized it, the train had already stopped at Dresden Central Station—and had been stationary for several minutes.

Startled, Eberhard quickly stood to retrieve his luggage from the overhead rack, while Xuenie handed him his backpack and scanned the compartment to ensure he hadn’t left anything behind.

In a rush, the University of Munich student grabbed all his belongings, bid Xuenie a hurried goodbye, and dashed out of the compartment.

Watching him weave through the aisle, apologizing and thanking passengers who stepped aside to let him pass, Xuenie couldn’t help but smile.

Only then did she realize a serious problem—it had been almost two hours since her friend Helena had texted her:

"So… is this your first time opening this book?"

And she hadn’t replied even once!

**Xuenie:** *Helena! So sorry for not replying for so long!*

I just met this incredibly handsome guy on the train, and we hit it off right away!

We’ve been talking nonstop—you wouldn’t believe it, he actually listened to me rant about Kafka!

Meanwhile, Eberhard Groetz had already stepped off the train, dragging his suitcase toward the exit, when it hit him—he hadn’t asked for her contact information.

But by then, it was too late to turn back. The conductor at the carriage entrance had already blown the whistle, signaling the train’s imminent departure.

Panicking, Eberhard pulled out a pen and paper from his bag, scribbled down his phone number, and—leaving his luggage behind—raced back to the window of the compartment where he’d been sitting.

He knocked on the glass, startling Xuenie, who was still typing an explanation to Helena.

Then she saw him—holding up a slip of paper with a string of numbers, gesturing for her to take a photo.

Before she could fully process his meaning, the train began to move. Seeing Eberhard break into a jog alongside it, Xuenie finally understood.

She nodded emphatically and fumbled for her phone to open the camera—only to drop it in her haste!

By the time she crawled under the table to retrieve it and stood back up, the train had long since left the platform. All she could do was twist around and watch the figure of the German boy grow smaller and smaller in the distance.

At that moment, Helena’s reply popped up on her screen:

"Looks like you got his number? I’m so happy for you!"

Xuenie glanced wistfully at the platform and replied:

"I did… but I didn’t have time to write it down."

---

Prague, Czech Republic – Central Station**

Lin Xuenie:"It’s true, there really was someone like that. He was unbelievably good-looking, with the most captivating voice. I’ve been in Berlin for two years, and I’ve never seen a man—or rather, a boy—that handsome before.

And not only did he willingly enter my compartment to talk to me, but the whole time, he looked at me like that. It made me check the mirror in the bathroom after he left, just to be sure."

Helena: "Oh? And then what?"

Lin Xuenie: "Then I realized I *am* actually quite good-looking. I stared at myself in the mirror for a while."

Helena:"So… did you at least get a photo of him?"

At 5:30 PM European time, Helena—the Czech girl who had come to pick up her Chinese friend—was wheeling Lin Xuenie’s suitcase while teasing her mercilessly. Outside, Prague was still bathed in golden light, the red rooftops in the distance looking particularly charming.

Lin Xuenie: "Well… no. We spent that precious one hour and fifty minutes purely on spiritual exchange."

Helena:"Answer me this, Xuenie. How does this ridiculously handsome University of Munich student compare to your beloved Kafka? Who’s better-looking?"

Lin Xuenie: "How could you even ask me that? *No one* can be compared to Kafka! He’s special, completely different from everyone else."

Helena: "That makes it hard to believe you actually met someone like this on the train, Xuenie. I don’t sense any of your libido being directed toward this German boy."

Lin Xuenie:"Oh, come on! Spare me the psychoanalysis."

Just as she finished speaking, the taxi driver they’d hailed finished loading their luggage into the trunk.

As the car pulled away, the true face of Prague slowly unfolded before Lin Xuenie’s eyes.

The thrill of seeing the city for the first time made it impossible for her to focus on their usual banter. Right now, all her attention was fixed on the scenery outside the window…

When she caught glimpses of scenes she had imagined countless times in her mind, she knew—this would be a sleepless night.

Since Helena had plans later that evening, she could only help Xuenie settle in before leaving.

But before she left, she handed her newly arrived friend a beautifully illustrated map of Prague and made plans to meet for lunch the next day.

Helena told Xuenie that she had to walk across Charles Bridge at 9:30 PM.

Because that was when Prague’s sky would begin its transformation—from a bright, pale blue to the deep, starry hues of Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

With the right music, her first experience crossing Charles Bridge would be unforgettable.

Xuenie promised her friend—but she couldn’t resist the pull of the bridge any longer.

Leaving the Jewish Quarter in northern Prague where she was staying, she wandered toward Old Town Square. She passed the iconic Gothic spires of the Church of Our Lady before Týn, turned to see the Astronomical Clock surrounded by crowds of tourists, and then—almost unconsciously—followed the road straight ahead until she saw it: Charles Bridge, first built in 1357.

Captivated, Xuenie put on her headphones, plugged them into her phone, and selected her favorite flute concerto—composed by none other than Frederick the Great of Prussia.

As the music began, she took her first step forward.

It felt like performing a sacred, magical ritual—each step deliberate, savored.

Along the way, she passed the thirty statues of saints lining the bridge, erected over two centuries.

She walked slowly, unlike the laughing tourists snapping photos around her.

By the time she crossed the entire 520-meter-long medieval bridge, her heart was pounding harder than ever, yet her mind had never felt so calm.

She turned back to look at the path she had just walked.

And then—the magic hour arrived.

To her right, the southern side of Prague, tourists still chattered noisily.

But to her left, the northern side…

A horse-drawn carriage was approaching.

It looked like something straight out of an old photograph.

Standing between these two starkly different worlds, Lin Xuenie stared wide-eyed, frozen in disbelief.

She didn’t dare blink—as if doing so would make it all vanish.