A Touching Short Love Story

In July 20xx, Zhao Xiaoting, a junior student at the School of Electrical Engineering at University and a volunteer teacher, was tragically killed by falling rocks while on a mountain. Xiaoting’s departure left a boy named Shen Xun heartbroken, as she had shared the best years of her youth with him.

The Girl with Big Eyes Called “Xiao Mo”

In my phone, Xiaoting’s name was “Xiao Mo.” During our days of love, I always called her that, and this affectionate name witnessed our sweet love. But now, I dare not easily mention this name. “Xiao Mo” is engraved in my heart, and every time I think of it, it pains me.

My name is Shen Xun, born into a working-class family in Linxiang City, Hunan Province. In July 20xx, I was admitted to the School of Electrical Engineering at Wuhan University. During the freshman military training, I noticed a girl with big eyes. When it was her class’s turn to rest, she would watch our training with other girls. If a boy accidentally stepped out of formation or didn’t turn on command, many girls would laugh heartily, but she tried hard to suppress her laughter…

Was she afraid of embarrassing the boys? If so, what a considerate girl she must be! This small detail gently yet powerfully touched my heart.

Since then, I didn’t know why, but as long as she was around, I felt especially nervous, fearing I would embarrass myself in front of her.

After the military training, I began looking for this girl, but she never appeared in my sight. Until one day in October, the school held a singing competition for freshmen, and I saw her on stage. She sang Zhao Wei’s “The Rainy Sunday,” with a clear, pure, and penetrating voice that left me spellbound.

During the award ceremony, I learned her name was Zhao Xiaoting. I also found out she was in the same department and major as me, a freshman in the Electrical Engineering and Automation class 4.

Soon, an opportunity opened for a young heart in love. I joined the Student Union’s Sports Department, and Xiaoting, who was enthusiastic about public welfare, became the vice monitor and also joined the Student Union. From then on, outside of our studies, we often participated in college basketball games, university sports meets, and other activities together, serving the team members. During a tug-of-war competition at school, we worked hard, and after the competition, we sat down together and had our first long talk. I learned that Xiaoting came from a farming family in Rugao, Jiangsu. Her father, Zhao Songgao, was an electrician, doing odd jobs everywhere, and her mother worked as a temporary worker in a solar factory. Their family was not well-off. Therefore, Xiaoting took on the burden of life early. Whenever she went home for holidays, she either worked in the fields or did household chores like washing clothes and cooking. In the dormitory, she was the most frugal one. Although she loved beauty, she never spent money recklessly on herself, using the cheapest facial cleanser from the supermarket. When her classmates went out for dinner or karaoke, she always stayed alone in the dormitory reading to save money…

When talking about these, Xiaoting always had a faint smile on her face. My heart ached—how much unknown endurance and strength were behind her smile…

Xiaoting told me she gave herself the name “Xiao Mo,” meaning to study silently and live low-key. I especially liked this name. Every time I silently recited it, I felt immense sweetness.

And Xiaoting indeed lived up to the name, loving to study. Whether it was the scorching heat or the bitter cold, her slightly thin figure was always the first to appear in the classroom. As I got to know her better, my fondness for Xiaoting grew day by day.

Xiaoting was like a “happy fruit,” always wearing a bright smile. Whenever I met her, I felt an urge to confide in her. When I was in a bad mood, I would ask Xiaoting to walk with me on the playground, talking about my troubles. Xiaoting would always comfort and encourage me sincerely. After talking with her, I felt a great sense of relief.

On January 13, 20xx, a day I will never forget, while our classmates were packing their bags to go home for the holidays, Xiaoting and I met in the stands of the engineering department’s sports field to chat. Under the moonlight, the quiet Xiao Mo was like a blooming daisy, and the air was filled with the fragrance of chrysanthemums.

As I looked at her, my heart felt warm and passionate. I couldn’t help but hold her hand and confess my feelings. Xiaoting closed her eyes and shyly leaned on my shoulder…

That evening, we agreed to prepare for graduate school together. After graduating, we would work hard for two more years, then walk under the same roof. I calculated it would take eight years. Eight years is long, but with Xiao Mo, it would be very short. By then, I would tie up her long hair and make her a wedding dress. Everything would be so romantic and happy!

You Are a Lotus, You Are a Chrysanthemum

Sweet love changed me. I gradually became optimistic and cheerful like Xiaoting. “Xiao Mo” became my exclusive nickname for Xiaoting. When we were alone, I often called her “child”—to me, she was like an innocent child. Xiaoting always retorted with “little brat,” and we would burst into laughter…

Like other student couples in love, Xiaoting and I often went to the library to read and study together. Sometimes, I wanted to take Xiaoting to a movie, but she was reluctant to spend my money, preferring to watch downloaded movies in my dorm room. During our days of love, Xiaoting’s biggest “luxury” was pulling me along the streets, strolling from Jiedaokou to Zhongnan.

On January 13, 20xx, our first anniversary, I secretly bought a knitted sweater Xiaoting had been eyeing for a long time but hadn’t dared to buy. When I gave her the sweater, her eyes lit up, but she immediately asked how much it cost. I casually said, “It was less than two hundred yuan after the discount!”

But Xiaoting still thought it was expensive and felt bad for a long time, saying, “I can’t spend your money… You haven’t even bought yourself any good clothes, and you bought me such an expensive one…”

A beautiful girl in her prime, feeling heartache over buying a sweater that cost a little over a hundred yuan—how could one not feel both love and pity! I silently vowed to work hard and give Xiaoting a good life in the future.

In the second semester of my sophomore year, Xiaoting, to reduce her parents’ burden, started tutoring an eighth-grade student in physics at a home on Zhongbei Road.

University students at Wuhan University typically earned fifty yuan per hour for tutoring, but Xiaoting, knowing that the family wasn’t well-off, voluntarily lowered her fee to twenty yuan per hour. Even so, she often asked me uneasily, “Am I charging too much?”

Xiaoting’s kindness always made me feel ashamed. I knew she applied to become a Chinese Youth Volunteer as soon as she entered university, volunteering to repair electrical appliances for elderly professors, teaching computer skills at the Senior University, and entertaining the elderly at nursing homes. She actively participated in all public welfare activities. Inspired by her, I also became a registered youth volunteer at Wuhan University.

In July 20xx, I joined her in the summer teaching program in Xintiao, Hunan. This was our first time teaching in a remote mountain area, facing great challenges: we ate and slept in the classroom, had no place to shower, endured temperatures as high as 38 degrees without fans, and had to fend off numerous mosquitoes. Despite all this, Xiaoting never complained, instead encouraging the team to persevere.

Seeing her smiling in the dilapidated classroom, hoarsely yet enthusiastically teaching the children, I was deeply moved by the powerful aura of love emanating from her small body. I often wondered how a girl from the water towns of Jiangnan could adapt to life in the central Hunan mountains. It was clearly her pure love that supported her willingness to do everything for the children.

During the half-month of teaching, we taught the children during the day and visited their homes at night. Only after all the work was done could we hold hands, walking around the campus and chatting. Under the moonlight, with the mountains in the background and the chirping of insects, I told her I had a metaphor for her: “Dear, you are like a daisy in the mountains, blooming quietly and fragrantly…”

I’ll Give You a Wedding Dress in Eight Years

The teaching trip to Xintiao elevated our feelings for each other.

In July 20xx, led by Xiaoting, I gave up my holiday again and joined the 20xx class party’s teaching team to go to Mashanghe Elementary School in Guiding County, Guizhou Province. This was a Miao village, and the teaching environment was even harsher than before.

Mashanghe Elementary School was a school for children of migrant workers left behind in the countryside, located in the remote mountains, dozens of kilometers from the county town. There was no running water; we drank from the school’s only pipe connected to the mountain stream, which often ran dry. There were no dormitories, so we slept in the classroom on desks pushed together.

To eat, we had to walk more than ten minutes to various farmhouses. Facing such harsh conditions, Xiaoting encouraged her classmates: “Since we are here, we should teach the children well! Besides, we can enjoy the

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