Classic School Love Story

I finally understand that an unfinished cup of tea cannot save a love that is ending, but finishing a cup of tea at the end of a relationship can help start a new one. And dancing at midnight can be without an audience, but it cannot lack personal joy.

Back then, I was studying at a university in Beijing. My mother was a dancer, and I inherited all her beautiful genes and dancing cells. Wherever I went, I drew attention, with my long legs, slender waist, and flowing black hair that leaped like a waterfall when I danced, along with my graceful dance moves that captivated many handsome and talented young men on campus.

My mother was even more beautiful when she was young. But when I was very young, my father divorced my beautiful mother. I lived with my mother. My father rarely visited me; only a green remittance slip each month reminded me that he was in a distant place. I didn’t dare to ask my mother about my father; I only vaguely knew that my father fell in love with another woman, and my mother had to let go.

Growing up, I secretly thought that if I were my mother, I would never have divorced my father so easily. Why should he get to live a good life? My mother often danced alone in the living room at night, her beautiful figure swaying like a night-blooming jasmine in the evening breeze. I would sit on the dark-colored sofa in the living room, holding my mother’s favorite rose jasmine mixed flower tea, accompanying her.

As the night deepened, I often fell asleep on the sofa, and when I woke up, my mother was still dancing gracefully under the dim light, like a magnificent night butterfly. But who accompanied my mother’s beauty? There was sadness, like an electric current, in my heart.

In college, I was recognized as the “Dance Party Princess,” often receiving roses from infatuated boys, making other girls envious. However, my mother had warned me since I was young: “Mingming, sometimes beauty is a sorrow for women; you must be discerning in judging people.”

My mother’s words took root in my heart. Recalling the hurt my father caused my mother, I dared not easily touch the realm of love despite the fervent confessions from many boys.

Until I met Tian. It was a weekend dance at school, and as usual, many boys were vying to ask me to dance. Tired from dancing, I sat by the side, chatting idly with my female companion. A hand reached out, and thinking it was another dance invitation, I said without looking up, “I’m not available!” A male voice sounded in my ear: “I’m not asking you to dance; I know you’ve been dancing for a long time. Here’s some mineral water; you must be thirsty, right?” Such a thoughtful boy, my companion had already snatched the water, giggling. I turned around, and in the flickering lights of the dance floor, saw a young face with a shy smile and big eyes looking at me.

Although we had just met, there was an unexpected sense of familiarity. I quickly lowered my head, “Sorry, I don’t like mineral water.” He was visibly disappointed, and I felt bad, “How about we dance?” He was overjoyed. Though tired, I found myself dancing one song after another with him.

We gradually became acquainted, and as we spent more time together, I developed a liking for him, but I knew it was still far from love. One day, as usual, I took a cup of tea to the library to read, and coincidentally, Tian was there too. Smiling, he pointed to the seat next to me, “Can I sit here?” I smelled a strong male scent from him. The library was quiet, and he silently flipped through his book beside me.

After a long time, he suddenly held up his empty cup and asked, “My tea is finished; can you pour some from your cup?” His eyes were warm, and though I initially wanted to refuse, I found myself saying, “You can.” He drank my tea with great relish and asked, “What kind of tea is this?” I smiled faintly, “Rose jasmine mixed flower tea, my favorite, rarely available here. Why, don’t you like it?” “No, actually… I’ve always wanted to know what you like to drink.” Tian’s eyes were full of mischievous laughter.

Knowing I liked rose jasmine mixed flower tea, Tian specially went to a gardening farm to learn from the master, picked and blended the tea himself, and every morning, he would brew the tea and wait for me on the shaded path, offering his deep affection.

Slowly, I found Tian to be sincere and genuine. Three months later, I was completely moved and, discarding many temptations within reach, I resolutely fell in love with him. After graduation, to work in the same city, I gave up the opportunity to stay in Beijing and followed Tian to Guangzhou to strive for our future.

But to my surprise, a year after arriving in Guangzhou, our once passionate love gradually cooled due to incompatible personalities, and Tian eventually proposed breaking up. He fell in love with a girl far inferior to me. I was confused, unwilling, tearful, heartbroken, and had huge arguments, but ultimately couldn’t salvage the relationship. I recalled my initial efforts and his deep affection at the beginning, like a dream.

When love ends, meeting at the studio, with Tian sitting opposite, I knew that drinking the remaining rose jasmine flower tea in front of me would mean parting ways and letting time drink away the past love. Tian’s cup was long empty, but I couldn’t bear to finish my cup of tea.

From morning till afternoon, Tian silently accompanied me, and the afternoon sunlight danced, moved, and finally disappeared on the coffee table. By dusk, my tea was still unfinished, but my boyfriend had disappeared, and love was gone too. Before leaving, Tian said, “You can start over.” His words, like knives, pierced my heart, leaving me speechless with pain.

I dared not tell my mother about the breakup, but finally, I couldn’t help calling her, crying my heart out. My mother sighed, “Silly child, you can’t keep a leaving heart. Just like your father, if he wants to go, let him go. Haven’t I managed all these years alone? When you’re lonely, just dance for yourself, and never cry. Have you ever seen me cry?”

Her slow words were like a thunderbolt on a clear day. For the first time, I understood my mother’s graceful dances at midnight. Mother, your daughter will not cry; I still have a long way to go. I finally understand that an unfinished cup of tea cannot save a love that is ending, but finishing a cup of tea at the end of a relationship can help start a new one. And dancing at midnight can be without an audience, but it cannot lack personal joy.

Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “