Cried by Seven Centimeters of Pain
Liu Liu took Yu Ou back to her hometown.
At this time, the small town was blooming with apricot flowers like snow. Liu Liu’s mother brushed the fallen petals off her daughter’s shoulders, unable to close her mouth with joy. Yu Ou was having a pleasant conversation with Liu Liu’s father, and they went to a tavern together.
Her mother asked many questions, worried that her beloved daughter was about to marry a stranger from another land.
Liu Liu began to praise Yu Ou, until her mother, feeling jealous, said, “I’ve treated you this well for over twenty years, why don’t you feel it?”
Liu Liu went out for a walk.
A thin cloud floated in the sky. Turning a corner, she suddenly saw the Liang Family Clinic and froze, unsure whether to go over.
Three years ago.
Liu Liu came back from school, limping into the Liang Family Clinic. Liang Chenyu, wearing a white coat, was performing acupuncture on a patient. He glanced at her and asked, “Twisted your ankle?”
It was a while before Liang Chenyu had a moment to spare. He lifted Liu Liu’s foot and found that her new shoes had chafed, leaving a piece of flesh raw. He knocked on her head, “Silly, why didn’t you walk barefoot?”
Liu Liu snapped back, “None of your business!” Liang Chenyu turned and walked away. Liang’s father came over, scolding his son and comforting Liu Liu, “Come, let me apply some medicine for you.”
When she was about to leave, Liang Chenyu still ignored her. Liang’s father reassured her, “This brat, I’ll deal with him later.” Liu Liu felt vindicated, wearing Liang Chenyu’s big leather shoes as she walked home with a clattering sound.
Late at night, Liang Chenyu called from outside, “Liu dummy.” Liu Liu rushed to the alley and threw his shoes at him.
With a cheeky grin, Liang Chenyu sat down by the wall, looking up at the moon. The moonlight was cool, and the spring breeze sent apricot blossoms flying everywhere. Liu Liu sat down too, hugging her knees and staring at Liang Chenyu’s shadow.
The small town was drunk in the spring night. Gradually, Liu Liu’s heart softened, and she called, “Hey.” Liang Chenyu picked up petals from the ground and chewed on them. “You donkey,” Liu Liu scolded. Liang Chenyu didn’t get angry; he was three years older than Liu Liu, and she had loved to bicker with him since they were kids, so he was used to it.
Liu Liu had always secretly loved Liang Chenyu.
Liang Chenyu was handsome, doted on by neighbors since childhood. Annoyingly, people often called out in the street, “Little Fish, let my daughter marry you when you grow up?”
At those times, Liu Liu would feel an unprecedented panic. She tried to hide it, sneaking glances at Liang Chenyu’s reaction. Liang Chenyu always looked indifferent, “Too many wives to count, gotta focus on exams!”
The next day, Liu Liu went to the clinic to change her dressing. Liang’s father greeted her with a smile, checking her wound. They chatted casually, and he asked, “Where do you plan to develop after graduation?”
Liu Liu noticed Liang Chenyu wasn’t there and felt a sudden emptiness. She replied absent-mindedly, “Maybe I’ll go south with my classmates. Our major is in demand in coastal cities.”
Apricot flowers were still flying everywhere, and Liu Liu felt a small knife cutting back and forth at her heart. The knife seemed rusty, spreading a dull pain that gradually filled her, making it almost impossible to walk.
Because of this, Liu Liu fell ill.
After recovering and returning to school, she passed by the clinic. Liang Chenyu called from inside, “Liu Liu.” She hesitated, peeking in. Liang Chenyu was arranging a skeleton on the floor, surrounded by a few children.
Liu Liu recognized the children from the orphanage; Liang Chenyu often brought them to the clinic to play. She leaned against the door, greeting the children.
They tugged at her, insisting she touch the skeleton. A girl said, “Brother Liang says I’m his heart. Sister, touch it.” A boy added, “I’m Brother Liang’s liver. Sister, touch it.”
Liu Liu let the excited children guide her. Suddenly, she blurted out, “What about me?”
Liang Chenyu trembled slightly, staring at the flustered Liu Liu. After a moment’s thought, he told the children, “Sister Liu is my seven-centimeter appendix.”
Liu Liu was a very proud girl. Despite her deep love for Liang Chenyu, she couldn’t stand being belittled. Liang Chenyu hadn’t gone to college and had a bad temper. Whenever she felt heartache, Liu Liu would repeat these faults over and over until she felt hopeless.
In the fall, Liu Liu graduated from college. Her class president, Yu Ou, who had been pursuing her persistently, asked where she planned to go. She was lost, and Yu Ou suggested, “Liu Liu, come to Zhuhai with me.”
Liu Liu neither agreed nor refused. Yu Ou made arrangements to get her a job in Zhuhai. A few days before leaving, Liu Liu went to the clinic.
Liang Chenyu was grinding herbs. “I’m going to Zhuhai,” she said, feeling the pain in her heart again. She kept telling herself that if Liang Chenyu asked her to stay, she wouldn’t leave.
“Need any medicine?” Liang Chenyu asked, opening drawer after drawer in the medicine cabinet. Liu Liu watched his back, bathed in the afternoon sunlight, golden and radiant.
Liu Liu quietly cried.
She hadn’t expected that after she left, Liang Chenyu would also leave the town, joining a special folk art troupe as a doctor.
On the day Liu Liu left for Zhuhai, her parents insisted on seeing her off at the station. Yu Ou walked ahead, happily pulling a suitcase.
At the alley’s entrance, he saw Liang Chenyu.
Liang Chenyu asked, “Are you the class president?” Yu Ou was surprised; he didn’t know Liang Chenyu. Liu Liu arrived and asked Yu Ou to catch a cab.
Liang Chenyu told Yu Ou, “Liu Liu is my sister. Take care of her.” Yu Ou smiled, slightly embarrassed but pleased because Liu Liu had never confirmed their relationship, not even to her family.
Liu Liu wavered.
Liang Chenyu turned and softly said, “Take care.”
Returning to the present, Liu Liu went with Liang’s father to watch a slideshow at their home.
They closed the curtains and turned off the lights. She watched slides projected on the wall, scenes of places she had longed to visit: deserts, camels, and mirages. Liang Chenyu had taken special photos of places she had mentioned.
Then Liang’s father said, “Your Brother Liang is ill. These are photos the troupe took temporarily. Have a look.”
On the wall, Liang Chenyu was clutching his stomach, his handsome face contorted. It turned out he had appendicitis and needed surgery. As the doctors and nurses prepared to operate, Liang Chenyu violently pushed away the anesthetic needle. Liu Liu was shocked; Liang Chenyu refused anesthesia.
She covered her mouth tightly.
She recalled three years ago when Liang Chenyu opened all the medicine drawers, filling the clinic with a strong, bitter scent. As she stepped out, she heard a violent crash behind her. The drawers were falling, one after another.
The sound made Liu Liu’s steps falter, her heart shattering.
At that time, Liu Liu wanted to turn back. She didn’t know if the drawers would hit Liang Chenyu’s right leg, his only leg.
This handsome man was born disabled, with only one leg. Yet, he was truly charming, beloved by neighbors. After finishing high school, he learned medicine from his father. He was naturally talented, mastering both traditional Chinese and Western medicine.
He was the patients’ reassurance. When he smiled, even the worst pain could be eased. He would feel the pulse with his eyes closed, select the medicine with his eyes open, and finally bow, saying, “Thank you for your patronage, and please don’t come back.”
Of course, he knew Liu Liu liked him, but he pretended not to understand. He stubbornly believed he was different from others, at least in matters of love. However, despite many years and many people, he only loved Liu Liu.
But his father said Liu Liu had specifically told him she was going to Zhuhai after graduation. Liang Chenyu knew that if he tried, Liu Liu might stay, but he never had the courage.
That day, he saw Yu Ou, with his long legs and warm smile, always circling around Liu Liu. Liang Chenyu knew that this boy also deeply loved Liu Liu.
Seeing the person he loved happy before she left gave Liang Chenyu peace of mind.
He dreamed of Liu Liu being his heart, his liver. But he knew if he said that, Liu Liu wouldn’t leave easily. The pain of removing one’s heart and liver was something her delicate self couldn’t bear.
So he assigned her the insignificant seven centimeters, to place her love there and make her give up.
Liu Liu knelt before the wall, trying to get closer to Liang Chenyu.
She wanted to tell him it was her own lack of courage. She knew he loved her, knew he only had one leg, yet why did she wait for him to speak first?
Liu Liu realized she was somewhat conventional. She loved Liang Chenyu but worried about her family
’s opposition and others’ gossip. When Yu Ou confessed, she hesitated. She weighed the two loves and decided to leave with Yu Ou.
Her heart ached too, but she thought the pain would pass.
Liu Liu accepted Yu Ou and began a new love.
She never imagined that after she left, Liang Chenyu would leave with a seven-centimeter wound, far away.
He joined a troupe for disabled people, wandering the ends of the earth. Everyone thought he was calm, at least his smile remained the same.
But Liu Liu now understood that Liang Chenyu’s love was always deeper, his pain always greater.
In the photos, Liang Chenyu smiled gently. He wished to tell his beloved that sometimes, it’s not that you don’t strive; love isn’t something one person’s effort can fulfill.
Watching Liu Liu leave with someone else, Liang Chenyu felt no resentment, only a trembling pain. He finally had the chance to remove the appendix he reserved for Liu Liu. Though it was only seven centimeters, it was real, cutting pain.
Letting go was easy, but the heart remained unsettled. Though he couldn’t place Liu Liu’s love, he still wanted to commemorate it in his own way: once upon a time, a girl sat with him before a skeleton, her hand gliding over the heart, liver, and resting on the appendix.
Love passed by just like that.
Apricot flowers drifted in through the half-open curtains, falling on the dappled floor. Though light, Liu Liu still heard them.
She leaned down to pick up the fallen flowers. In a daze, she heard the sound of crutches, tapping down from the wall.
Liu Liu looked again at the last photo. Liang Chenyu had turned away.
Perhaps, he too, was cried by the pain of those seven centimeters.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
