short Emotional Story: Youth Ends, Love Awakens

A bad relationship only teaches you to be pathetic, while a good one teaches you how to love yourself.

The Man Who Bought Baby’s Breath

On an early spring morning, Guli sat in her flower shop, feeling a bit drowsy.

A man walked into the shop, wanting to buy a large bouquet of baby’s breath. Guli was surprised and pointed to a pot of small white flowers, saying, “This is baby’s breath. Are you sure?” The man nodded.

Guli had never encountered a customer who only wanted a bouquet of baby’s breath. Out of professional curiosity, she asked him who he was buying them for.

The man replied, “For someone I like.”

Guli insisted on adding a single rose to the baby’s breath bouquet. The man removed the rose, smiled, and handed it back to her. “I don’t need it. You can have it.”

Guli was touched; she had been selling flowers for years, yet no one had ever given her a rose.

She placed the rose in a separate vase.

In the following months, at the end of each month, the man would come back to buy more baby’s breath.

As they became more familiar, they would chat. He learned that Guli was from Xinjiang, that she worked as a tour guide during busy seasons and managed the flower shop herself when things were slow.

Guli also learned his name and profession—Chi Shu, a police officer.

One day, they ran into each other at a restaurant. Both were alone, so they shared a table and exchanged phone numbers. After that, they occasionally called each other. When Chi Shu was on patrol and saw Guli in the flower shop, he would stop by and sit with her.

Chi Shu was a local, born and raised. He knew everything about the area and took Guli to see the sights of the old town and enjoy the famous tofu at the riverside.

He told her, “It’s not easy for you to come so far on your own. You should make more friends and take better care of yourself.”

Despite their growing friendship, they never pried into each other’s personal lives.

Every now and then, Guli would fly south to meet the man she loved. He rarely took the initiative to see her; it was always her going to him. Sometimes, she would already be on her way when he would call to say it wasn’t convenient, and she would turn back.

Sometimes she would leave in bright sunshine, only to arrive in bitter rain.

Their worlds were often as different as the weather.

The Life She Longed For

In late autumn, on a rainy afternoon, Guli was driving to the airport when her car suddenly had a flat tire. She stood on the roadside under an umbrella, trying to hail a cab. Her skirt was soaked, and her makeup was smeared.

A police car pulled up beside her, and Chi Shu leaned out, saying, “Get in! I’ll take you!”

The traffic was heavy, and Guli was visibly anxious. Chi Shu turned on the police lights and siren, clearing the way.

When they arrived at the airport, Guli received a message from the man: “My mother-in-law and sister-in-law are coming over, so I’m afraid it’s inconvenient.”

Guli replied sadly, “I haven’t seen you in three months. I’ll wait for you at the hotel.”

At that moment, a girl in a red coat ran past, throwing herself at a boy in a black coat. She pleaded loudly, “Don’t leave! Please don’t leave! If you think I’m fat, I’ll lose weight! If you think my temper is bad, I’ll change!”

The boy shook her off in disgust. “It’s not that I don’t like you; I just don’t love you!”

The girl clung to his leg, begging, “But I love you!”

Out of professional habit, Chi Shu walked over and pulled the girl up, saying loudly, “If he doesn’t love you, why are you begging him?” The onlookers chimed in, “Pathetic! Absolutely pathetic!”

Guli felt like she had been punched in the chest.

Pathetic! Pathetic!

She had flown to see him again and again, but he would never marry her. He summoned her when he wanted, dismissed her when he didn’t. What else could she be but pathetic? She had traveled so far, endured so much, and it was all for nothing but being pathetic.

Guli quietly said, “Chi Shu, let’s go back.” Chi Shu didn’t ask any questions and turned the car around.

Chi Shu drove Guli home. She invited him up for a bit.

Guli lived alone, but her fridge was full of all kinds of food. She made shrimp and seaweed soup, carrot and egg pancakes, shredded pork with pickled mustard greens, and Kung Pao chicken. Chi Shu joked, “You’ve got so much food, it’s like you’re always ready to host a guest.”

Guli smiled, “Yes, I’ve been waiting for someone to visit. But I know he’ll never come.”

“You mean your boyfriend?” Chi Shu asked.

Guli shook her head. “He was, but now I’m just being pathetic.” Saying the word “pathetic” out loud made her heart ache.

The window was open, and Chi Shu suddenly pointed outside. Guli looked and saw a rainbow.

It was the first time she had seen a rainbow in this strange city. She was excited. She brought out some barley wine from her hometown, and they drank a little, making it easier to open up.

Chi Shu said, “After work, having someone waiting, with hot food on the table—that’s the life I long for most.”

Guli replied, “Cooking and waiting for someone to come home—that’s the life I long for most.”

Chi Shu raised his glass, drank it all in one go, and joked, “Guli, let’s be together. Let’s get married!”

Guli didn’t respond but quietly drank her wine.

Painful Memories, Hard to Revisit

In midwinter, as the evening approached, the weather turned cold. A woman entered the flower shop, dressed elegantly, with an air of arrogance, and her belly slightly swollen. A man followed her in.

The woman stormed in, saying, “I’m going to smash your shop! Strip you naked and drag you out in public, you shameless homewrecker!”

The man and the woman started tearing at Guli’s clothes. Her coat was yanked off, and her leopard-print dress was half-torn. The man took the opportunity to grope her chest. She fought back in anger. In the struggle, she knocked the woman down, who hit a flower pot. The pot broke, and the woman’s forehead was cut.

The crowd that had gathered called the police. Guli stood there, disheveled, facing Chi Shu. It was only then that he learned her full name, Xià Màn Gūlì.

The woman accused Guli of destroying her marriage for a long time and claimed that she had only wanted to talk things over with Guli, but Guli had pushed, hit, and even kicked her in the stomach.

Guli felt deeply ashamed in front of Chi Shu as she helplessly tried to explain herself.

In the end, the police ruled that Guli had acted in self-defense and was not responsible.

Soon after, Guli received a message from the man: “How could you kick her in the stomach? That’s my child. You’re truly cruel!”

Guli’s heart turned cold.

Chi Shu took Guli back to the flower shop. He helped her clean up the mess, while she sat among the flower pots and told him her story.

She had grown up in the countryside. When she was three, her father left for the city and never returned. Her uncles helped raise her with her mother. At seventeen, after graduating from technical school, her uncles forced her to marry a middle-aged rich man. Her mother helped her escape in the middle of the night. She crossed marshlands, hitchhiked on a truck, and found her father in the city, but he couldn’t take her in. He arranged for someone to bring her to the mainland. She washed dishes, polished shoes, sold flowers, and was beaten, scolded, and humiliated.

At nineteen, she met the man. He was a university student at the time. He taught her Mandarin, helped her rent a place, and used his connections to get her into a tour guide exam, hoping to change her life. She actually passed the exam. He was her benefactor; she loved and was grateful to him, but he ended up marrying another woman.

His explanation was that love was one thing, marriage another. But she believed that love was the soul of marriage.

In the end, love had made her a pathetic mistress. She learned floral design, moved to this unfamiliar city, and opened a shop. She tried to forget him, but it was hard.

She picked up a pot of roses and asked Chi Shu, “Do you know what Xià Màn Gūlì means? It means ‘a blooming flower.’”

Chi Shu’s eyes reddened. He held her tightly, kissed her, and said, “Xià Màn Gūlì, I love you.”

Chi Shu’s embrace was as warm as the sheep back home, but she didn’t accept him.

He made her heart flutter, while the man made her heart cold. But after so many years, she had grown accustomed to the man’s voice, scent, and touch, feeling a deep attachment.

Besides, didn’t Chi Shu have a girl he liked? The one he always bought baby’s breath for.

The Call of Love

As the New Year approached, Guli led a tour to Hainan. When she returned to her flower shop, snowflakes were beginning to fall.

Chi Shu had been reassigned to a mission in Guangxi. He left Guli a message saying: “It’s cold, and I’m not there. Make sure to drink some hot soup. I love you, and you must take good care of yourself.”

Guli then received a call from the man: “My wife and mother-in-law are going to Hong Kong for vacation. I’ll come to see you, and we can spend the New Year together.”

He spoke as if nothing had happened, but the truth was, since the day his wife wrecked the flower shop, Guli’s heart had turned cold, and she had cut off all contact with him.

“I’ll come to see you.” Guli repeatedly read these four words. She had painstakingly honed her cooking skills, prepared all the ingredients, just for the day he would say those words.

The man arrived, eagerly embracing her and heading toward the bedroom, quickly stripping off her clothes.

Guli’s body shook violently; she felt both insulted and as if Chi Shu was watching her, just like that day at the police station when he had looked at her so tenderly and compassionately.

She pushed the man away, threw his clothes at him, and opened the door, telling him, “Get out.”

The man, furious, said, “Are you crazy?”

She replied, “I was crazy once, but now I’ve woken up!”

The man left, and Guli simmered a pot of lamb and radish soup.

Just then, her phone rang. It was Chi Shu’s number, but the voice on the other end wasn’t his. The person said, “Guli, I’m Chi Shu’s colleague. Chi Shu was injured on duty, his shoulder wound needs stitches. He refuses anesthesia, saying he just wants to talk to you.” Then, Guli heard soft murmurs from the other end: “Guli, Guli…”

His calls were gentle and full of affection. Other than her mother, no one had ever called her name like that.

The Most Beautiful Encounter

Chi Shu recovered from his injury and visited Guli’s flower shop again, asking for a large bouquet of baby’s breath. He took her hand and said, “Let me take you to meet the girl I like.”

Guli felt uneasy, a little bitter, and asked him, “Do you know the meaning of baby’s breath?”

Chi Shu replied, “A love willing to be a supporting role.”

Chi Shu took Guli to a campus, where in one of the classrooms, a slender middle-aged woman was teaching Li Qingzhao’s poetry. She spoke and sang as she taught, her every gesture graceful and elegant.

Chi Shu said, “She’s the woman I liked, but she’s married. I took her course in college, and I was captivated by her talent and poise. My feelings for her were a constant throughout my youth. It wasn’t until I met you that I realized my youth was over. I no longer want to play a supporting role in love; I need to be the lead.”

The warm breeze blew, filling the air with the scent of flowers, and Guli held onto Chi Shu, who was as warm as a sheep.

In that moment, she understood: A bad relationship only teaches you to be pathetic, but a good relationship teaches you how to love yourself. She hadn’t endured so much and come so far to be pathetic, but to meet Chi Shu.

At that point, her youth ended, and her love awakened.

Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “