Humorous romance: Love Without Fear of Weight
If men are like a career for women, then after my 26th birthday, I still found myself unemployed. I’m 160 cm tall and weigh 150 jin (about 75 kg). From a distance, I look like a big balloon supported by two small sticks, and when I walk, I resemble a pregnant penguin.
Seeing my increasing age, the elderly in my family couldn’t stand it anymore. My mom arranged one blind date after another for me, but every time, the guy was scared off by my steamroller-like figure.
After repeated failures, I gradually became resigned to my fate. But being overweight has its perks: a big heart and an optimistic outlook. Maybe if this were the Tang Dynasty, I would have been a beauty! It’s just that modern aesthetics are different. Every day, I remind myself that even if I can’t become a swan, at least I can be a happy ugly duckling.
One morning, I woke up late and rushed to the company. The elevator hadn’t left yet, so I hurriedly ran towards it. However, the elevator alarm went off, and under the angry glares of others, I had to step out. Just then, a guy rushed into the elevator. I thought he would also be forced out because of the weight limit, but to my surprise, the elevator doors closed. I was heavier than a man—a skinny guy, at that!
When I got to the office, a nosy colleague loudly said, “Turn up the air conditioning, don’t you know how much heat she generates?” I smiled at him. I was used to these jokes. Because I was both fat and good-natured, joking about me had become everyone’s favorite pastime. I had slowly gotten used to it—if I couldn’t be eye candy, at least I could bring everyone joy.
Wait, it’s him? The skinny guy from earlier! He was sitting right across from me. I asked a colleague and learned his name was Li Xing, a new coworker. Li Xing greeted me warmly, “Sorry for taking the elevator earlier, please look out for me in the future.”
Seeing the mischievous smile on his face, I corrected him, “I’m already upset that I’m fat, and now you’re calling me ‘sister’? My surname is Zhu, please call me Miss Zhu.”
That afternoon, the company had a blood test, and both the skinny guy and I couldn’t get any blood drawn. Our colleagues joked, “You can’t because you’re too fat, and he can’t because he’s too skinny. Fat and skinny make a good pair!”
I strongly disagreed—who wanted to be paired with this skinny guy? He’s almost 180 cm tall and barely 120 jin (about 60 kg)—he’s practically a noodle!
A Fat-Skinny Pair
The next day, I received a card: “Miss Pig, I formally invite you to join me as a team to compete. With your skills, we’re sure to win!” It turned out that a department store was hosting a dumpling-eating contest. This skinny guy sure knows how to pick people—I’m a super foodie!
On the day of the competition, the skinny guy and I arrived at the mall early. After thoroughly analyzing our opponents, we realized that the pair next to us was formidable—a man and a woman combined weighed over 400 jin (about 200 kg). So, we both took digestive pills.
The contest was a timed event—whichever team ate the most dumplings in 3 minutes would win. The competition began, and I started devouring the dumplings with all my might. Surprisingly, despite being so skinny, the skinny guy was no slouch when it came to eating. However, the 400-jin team was equally fierce. In the last 30 seconds, I was clearly losing steam. Just when it seemed like we were about to lose, the skinny guy picked up the plate and shoved all the dumplings into his mouth. The contest ended with us consuming 102 dumplings and winning the competition.
The prize was a full set of home appliances. That evening, as we celebrated, the skinny guy and I decided to form an alliance—fat and skinny—and dominate future eating contests.
Gradually, the skinny guy and I spent more and more time together, and our bond grew stronger. He would often draw circles on me, saying I should have surgery to remove the fat. I’d often poke his ribs when he wasn’t paying attention, and every time, he’d exclaim that I was taking advantage of him. I’d scoff, “You’re all bones—where’s the tofu to eat?” Slowly, I realized my feelings for the skinny guy were changing.
The company organized a swimming competition, and since I’m a landlubber, the skinny guy, who claimed to be a swimming champion, volunteered to teach me. That day, I purposely chose a sexy swimsuit and arrived early at the pool. When the skinny guy arrived, he kept staring at me. I joked, “Haven’t you seen a beauty before?” He pretended to gag, saying, “Don’t say such scary things.” It turned out he just thought the swimsuit was too small. He said he’d swim first, or else when I got in, the water would splash out, and he wouldn’t be able to swim.
That day, the skinny guy was very patient in teaching me, even though I accidentally kicked him several times. When we got back, he complained that I’d injured him and that I should take responsibility. Responsibility? I’d love nothing more—preferably for a lifetime.
I cautiously asked the skinny guy why he didn’t have a girlfriend—was there something wrong with him? He replied that he hadn’t met a woman who moved him. I asked what kind of woman he liked. He looked at me and said he liked slim and pretty ones—definitely not someone like me. I angrily called him shallow.
Shallow—aren’t all men shallow?
That night, I made an important decision: I was going to lose weight. This was my first time dieting. In the past, no matter how much others teased me, I never thought about losing weight. This time, I was doing it for the skinny guy.
Dieting was torture. Not being able to eat what you crave is the greatest torment in life. What was even more humiliating was that I fainted in the women’s restroom, right on the toilet. It took everyone a lot of effort to carry me out, and after being taken to the hospital, the doctor gave me a glucose injection. So, I started indulging in food again, and my weight went up even higher than before. This diet was a total failure.
Failing at dieting and humiliating myself meant I could only leave my love life to fate.
Call Me Stupid Pig
Recently, the skinny guy’s work performance wasn’t great, and the boss had criticized him several times. Seeing his gloomy face, I suggested we all go rafting that weekend.
During rafting, the skinny guy and I shared a small boat. As we drifted, everyone engaged in a water fight. The skinny guy didn’t seem very interested—he barely fought back, and he was almost completely soaked. To make him happy, I decided to sacrifice myself. I stood up to splash water at my colleagues, and then I pretended to lose my balance and fell into the water.
Even though it was already June, the water was still cold. It wasn’t deep but very fast. I floundered in the water for a long time, like a 150-jin clown, making all sorts of exaggerated movements. Everyone laughed, including the skinny guy. Seeing him so happy made it all worth it. Just when I was about to get up for real, I fell again and couldn’t get up. Once, twice—I don’t know how many times I fell, but I felt that amid everyone’s laughter, I was getting closer to happiness.
In the end, it was the skinny guy who pulled me back up. That day, he played like crazy. Seeing him so joyful made me feel happy too.
After rafting, the skinny guy got sick.
I soaked in the water for so long and was fine, but he got sick after a few splashes. The skinny guy took a day off, and as I looked at his empty desk across from me, I missed him terribly.
That night, while working late, I received a text from the skinny guy. He said he was a lonely, hungry soul, and it was all my fault. I angrily replied that it was his own weak constitution—look at me, I’m fine! Despite my words, I was really worried about him. I decided to sneak out and bring him some food. The heavens were uncooperative—it started raining at such an important moment. To keep the food dry, I gave the umbrella to the food and let myself get wet. Luckily, the skinny guy lived nearby.
When the skinny guy saw me bring him food, his eyes were full of gratitude, but he was really sick. To make him feel better, I told him all sorts of ridiculous stories about myself, and he nearly choked on his food several times from laughing.
The skinny guy curiously asked me why I always brought joy to others.
I told him it was because I’d been teased since I was a child—funny things naturally happened to me.
The skinny guy silently stared at me, and I quickly added that at least I could bring happiness to those around me. He asked if I had purposely fallen during the rafting trip to make him happy. I stupidly looked at him and asked, “So, were you happy?” He didn’t answer.
I packed up my things and prepared to return to the office. At the door, I couldn’t help but ask him if all I could do
was use silly antics to win someone’s heart. It was ridiculous but genuine. “Would you want this genuine person?” I asked. He remained silent.
Disappointed, I walked back to the office in the rain. The rain blurred my vision, and I kept telling myself not to be sad. I just had bad luck in love. Who am I? I’m Miss Pig—I’m used to people giving me strange looks and laughing at my ridiculous experiences.
When I got back to the office, I received a text from the skinny guy: “Now, to commend Miss Pig for her cheerful acceptance of fate, I’m sending you a gift. Item: Husband; Quantity: One; Time: 20XX. Will you accept?”
In this world, there are women who don’t have beautiful faces or stunning figures, and no prince will come riding a white horse to sweep them off their feet. But they still strive to find love and then work hard to protect it. They are Miss Pig. They can’t be princesses and won’t have many romantic encounters, but they continue to hope that someone will love them for their flaws, call them “stupid pig” affectionately, and speak to them the language of love.
And so, the skinny guy and Miss Pig will keep on loving each other, for a long, long time…
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
