Classic Adult Love Story
Several days of heavy rain drove away the hot and bothersome feeling. The thunderous roars set off the alarms of parked cars outside, and it wasn’t safe to use the computer. Lying in bed, bored and unable to sleep, I lit a cigarette and stared at the drifting smoke, lost in thought. As I watched, I seemed to see the image of that girl, and memories of the moments we shared played back in my mind. Unconsciously, a smile appeared on my face…
After dropping out of school, I went to Foshan to learn garment making with my uncle, joining the ranks of millions of migrant workers. As a novice with no experience, my uncle took me to a small workshop with about ten employees. The workshop was smaller than a classroom at school. I looked around to see if there were any pretty girls, hoping to experience the taste of romance.
In high school, novels and games occupied nearly two-thirds of my time, with sleep taking the remaining third. Those sweet and romantic plots in novels never happened to me because I had no extra time to lead a girl astray! Of course, that was just my one-sided thought; perhaps the girls weren’t interested in me either.
Thinking back, not falling in love in school felt like wasting the tuition fees, akin to winning a 5 million yuan lottery and not redeeming it, a decision that one would regret deeply later. Who wouldn’t redeem a 5 million yuan prize? That would be foolish! Clearly, I had chances to connect with girls but missed out due to various external factors. They’re all fools for not seizing the opportunity, just like me.
Sitting by the wall was a girl with fair skin and a petite figure, the kind that looks delicate and needs protection. I used to dream of finding a short girl so I could kiss her forehead while holding her, a romantic vision where I would bend down slightly while she stood on tiptoes.
But reality crushed my dreams because I’m only 170 cm tall, meaning she would need to be 155 cm for my fantasy to work. Forget it; my dream was deflated by my own height. While working, I would occasionally slack off and steal glances at her. Eventually, I daydreamed about winning her over, grinning foolishly and getting lost in thought. “Ah!” I cried out as a pin pricked my finger, drawing blood.
My uncle glanced back and teased, “Thinking about a girlfriend? Focus!” Frustrated, I was indeed thinking about a future girlfriend. Then a troubling thought struck me: What if she already had a boyfriend? What if he was in our workshop? Scanning the room, I identified two potential threats.
As the workday ended, I approached a slightly chubby guy, “What are you doing?” I asked. “Trimming threads and organizing,” he replied. I schemed to extract information from him. “Oh, I’m new here and don’t know anyone. It’s boring. Do you know many people here?” He looked up, “I haven’t been here long either, so I’m not very familiar with them.” “Did you come with anyone?” I asked. “No, I came alone.” Great! One rival eliminated. “Do you like playing games?” I continued. “Yes! I play…” That’s how our shared interest in online games quickly made us friends.
From him, I learned something disheartening: the girl had a boyfriend studying in another province. My life felt almost complete: I had a “wife” (the computer) and a “lover” (novels), but I was missing a girlfriend.
After working for a month, I left Foshan and returned home, discovering that society wasn’t as simple as I had imagined in school. It was hard to accept at first. Back home, I muddled through the days.
Before leaving Foshan, I got the girl’s QQ number from the chubby guy. QQ was the source of much evil, causing countless people to be deceived in matters of love, money, and even body. We often chatted online, and over time, we shared many things, confiding in each other when we had problems or setbacks. She mentioned that her boyfriend rarely visited and called less frequently.
A few days later, she told me they had broken up. This was good news for me.
After a year, I returned to Foshan to work again, telling her I was back and feeling bored alone in my uncle’s factory. She said, “We don’t have to work overtime tonight. I’ll be in the office watching TV. Come over and keep me company.” Excited, I carefully dressed up, using plenty of hair gel to ensure my hairstyle wouldn’t budge even in strong wind. I tried on various clothes, finally settling on an outfit after much fuss.
Half an hour later, I arrived at her office. She had changed in the past year: short hair, a white dress, tight jeans, and high heels. Yet, I still liked the pure version of her with a ponytail and beige cloth shoes. “Come in and sit,” she said, breaking my reverie. “Okay,” I replied. She handed me a glass of water and the remote.
The atmosphere was a bit awkward, so I quickly found a topic. “You’ve changed. You look more beautiful.” Although I wasn’t a master at flirting, I was good at small talk, thanks to years of reading novels. Gradually, we became more relaxed. After a while, I suggested, “Let’s go shopping. I haven’t explored Foshan yet.”
Shopping was our first date. We talked and laughed, enjoying each other’s company…
Five days later, on Sunday, I sent her a message, “Are you off work? Are you free tonight? I’m bored alone. Let’s go out.” I didn’t dare call her directly, fearing rejection. Text rejection is less harsh. “Sure, meet me at the supermarket at 7 pm,” she replied. I couldn’t wait and rushed to shower.
Thirty minutes later, I was dressed up, feeling my best. I even took a selfie. Walking side by side with her, the scent of her shampoo filled the air. For the first time, I realized how fragrant shampoo could be. Our shoulders brushed, and our hands occasionally touched, creating a sweet, ambiguous atmosphere. (Even as I write this, a smile lingers on my face; these are cherished memories…)
Life inevitably brings annoying people. As we walked, someone squeezed between us, breaking the moment. Didn’t they know that separating a couple warrants drinking a whole pot of forgetfulness soup? (I used to think the old lady of the forgetfulness soup was the wife of the god of love.)
As I tried to walk beside her again, another person squeezed through… By 10 pm, she said it was time to go back. Maybe she had work the next day, or perhaps it was just her being reserved. (Whether genuine or fake, acting reserved is better than not at all. They say the happiest women are those who can act well.) As I walked her back, I intentionally brushed her hand. I wanted to hold her hand but feared she might get angry.
Then I thought, since she agreed to go out with me, she didn’t dislike me. I decided to hold her hand. If she got mad, so be it. Her hand was so soft and delicate! So this is what it feels like to be moved. She struggled a bit, then turned her head away, showing me her beautiful back. In that moment, I saw her smile. Looking up at the stars, I smiled too. We walked silently, letting the subtle atmosphere envelop us.
Near the supermarket, I looked at her and said, “Be my girlfriend!” (I was quite bold then, not knowing when to stop.) She was stunned, “No, it’s too fast.” Do girls enjoy being pursued? It seems so. If a girl I liked confessed to me, I’d immediately say yes. Maybe that’s what they mean by “the chase is harder for a man than a woman.”
The world of emotions is too complex for me to understand. Since she didn’t agree, I resorted to a trick I learned from novels: “If you don’t agree, I’ll keep holding your hand. Tomorrow, I’ll take a leave of absence, writing: I didn’t sleep well because my girlfriend was mad at me last night.” She didn’t expect this, biting her lip and glaring at me.
Her expression made me want to kiss her; she was so cute! “If you don’t speak, I’ll take it as a yes.” She stayed silent, letting me hold her hand, shaking her head like a rattle, as if saying no. Seeing her shake her head, I did something funny. Instead of feeling dejected, I grabbed her shoulders, turned her towards me, and kissed her! It felt so soft! She turned her head away but then did something surprising.
She pulled me into a corner, wrapped her arms around my neck, closed her eyes, and slightly lifted her head. (I now understand she wasn’t very experienced and couldn’t hold back.) I’d have to take leave the next morning because I couldn’t sleep, laughing even in my dreams…
Although we lived close, we only met when we didn’t have to work overtime. But we talked on the phone for at least an hour daily. I realized that the most talkative people weren’t diplomats but couples in love. Even if the topic was the same as yesterday’s, they could chat endlessly.
Sometimes I thought, if everyone in the country were in love, China Mobile would be the world’s richest company. Every night, she’d end our calls with, “Don’t go online, don’t smoke, or you’ll be in big trouble.” I once asked a colleague, “
What would you do if your wife asked you to quit smoking?” He thought for a while and said seriously, “If she’s pretty, I’ll listen. If not, forget it.” …
Near her dorm was a lawn where most of our memories were made. When neither of us had to work overtime, we’d go there. She’d cook supper because I loved noodles, and she often made them. Her roommates would ask why she cooked so much and if she could finish it all. Sitting beside me, she’d lean on my shoulder, asking, “Is it good?”
June 1st was the day I confessed to her. I remember! We broke up on June 15th. There’s no point in blaming anyone because we are now history. Our breakup was due to my concern about others’ opinions.
My uncle said, “She’s so far away, not tall, not pretty. Why pursue her?” His friend said, “You’re so handsome. Why settle for her?” They said… On June 1st, when I confessed, she said, “You might not really like me. You’re just lonely and want someone to keep you company.”
No matter who you are, good or bad, noble or base, everyone does foolish things sometimes. There are too many fools in this world. Don’t be the next one…
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
