Short Stories of Youthful Romance
When I was in the first year of middle school, our algebra teacher, Miss Song, had long, flowing hair and a pair of sparkling black eyes that twinkled like stars in the night sky. Every time she taught algebra, I couldn’t take my eyes off her, mesmerized by her beauty. I often wondered how someone so beautiful must have a handsome prince for a husband.
One day, I saw an ordinary-looking, stocky man with a full beard come to see Miss Song. From the way they interacted, it seemed they were very close. Could this be her husband? I couldn’t believe it. Later, I learned that my suspicions were correct. As it turned out, Miss Song came from a poor family, but she was diligent in her studies and managed to gain admission to a prestigious teacher’s college with excellent grades.
However, her family couldn’t afford to send her to university, and Miss Song cried until her eyes were red, even contemplating suicide. Just when she was at her wit’s end about paying tuition, a neighbor named Liu Jun, who ran an appliance business, stepped in to help. Liu Jun was five years older than Miss Song and had dropped out of school after middle school, but he was sharp-minded. He quickly learned how to repair appliances and rented a small stall in the corner of a store in town, where he both sold and repaired appliances. His skills and honesty won him many customers, and his business thrived.
Even after becoming successful, Liu Jun didn’t forget his neighbors and often helped those in need. When he heard about Miss Song’s struggle to pay for college, he was moved and decided to help her without hesitation. Thanks to Liu Jun’s support, Miss Song completed her studies, and after graduation, the beautiful Miss Song became Liu Jun’s bride.
After hearing this true story, I felt a pang of regret for Miss Song. I wasn’t sure if she truly loved this man, but her sense of duty deeply moved me. From then on, I admired Miss Song even more, and I fell in love with algebra, quickly becoming the class representative for the subject. Every time I carried the entire class’s algebra homework to Miss Song’s office, I felt an indescribable joy. Every smile and frown of hers was etched deeply in my memory. I fantasized about having a similar “romantic encounter” like Miss Song’s, but I wondered when my “Liu Jun” would appear.
Life often plays tricks on us, and it wasn’t long before I found my own “Liu Jun.” In the second year of middle school, a newly graduated physics teacher joined our class. His name was Mr. Tu. He was tall and lean, with sharp, well-defined features and a sunny disposition. He always wore a pair of faded jeans. My classmates whispered that Mr. Tu’s family wasn’t well off and that his parents had taken on loans to put him through college, but this didn’t diminish his charm. On the sports field, his graceful figure playing basketball caught the attention of many girls, and I secretly developed a crush on him too. Mr. Tu treated me well, and I often felt his gaze on me during class, which made my heart race. I started working hard at physics and became the physics class representative. Being able to see both Miss Song and Mr. Tu every day made me as happy as a carefree swallow, flying freely. My grades improved along with my joyful mood, and I dreamed of one day being accepted into a teacher’s college, just like Miss Song.
Before I knew it, I was in my third year, and while Mr. Tu continued teaching our class, Miss Song remained teaching algebra to the first and second years. I no longer visited her office, but her image lingered in my mind. I even began imitating her by sometimes letting my hair flow freely over my shoulders or tying it up high. There was a mutual understanding between Mr. Tu and me; he often patted my shoulder and said, “Yingzi, study hard, you have great potential.” His words inspired me to work towards my goals.
At the end of the school year, I received admission letters from both a high school and a vocational school. My parents insisted that I attend vocational school to secure a stable job sooner, but I was determined to go to high school, as I wanted to explore broader horizons. My parents grew increasingly upset, and I found myself facing a choice similar to Miss Song’s—attend high school, vocational school, or give up on both. I didn’t realize how much pressure my stubbornness put on my parents until my father’s hair turned white overnight, torn between my future and our financial struggles. In the end, despite borrowing from others, my parents couldn’t come up with enough money for my first year of high school. I cried every day, feeling as if my heart was being torn apart, my hope for the future turning into despair.
The day before school started, I sat with my high school admission letter, overwhelmed with anxiety, when Mr. Tu arrived. He was still wearing those faded jeans, still as sunny and handsome as ever. He handed my father a thick envelope and said to me, “Yingzi, go to high school. I’ll find a way to cover your tuition every year. You have great potential.” Summoning the courage, I tightly held Mr. Tu’s hand and promised, “Mr. Tu, don’t worry, I’ll find a way to repay your kindness.”
After that, I found myself sitting in a bright classroom at the county’s top high school. With Mr. Tu’s support, I spent three busy and intense years in high school and eventually gained admission to the university of my dreams. That day, Mr. Tu did something unprecedented—he treated my parents and me to a meal at a small noodle shop in the town center. I could tell he was emotional and even had a bit of liquor with my parents. Carrying Mr. Tu’s hopes for me, I moved to another city to start my university life.
Almost every Sunday during my first year at university, I would write to Mr. Tu, sometimes sharing my grades, sometimes talking about the school or the city where I lived. Mr. Tu didn’t reply often, and when he did, it was with just a few brief words. However, he never forgot to send my tuition and living expenses on time. During the summer after my first year, I visited Mr. Tu, who took me to a small creek outside our old school to catch crabs. I squealed in delight at the sight of those scuttling little creatures, and Mr. Tu, sounding like an excited child, would shout, “Yingzi, come here! There are even bigger ones over here!” His cheerful voice made me laugh out loud. The days spent with Mr. Tu were joyful and fulfilling, and for a long time, his voice echoed in my ears. Many nights, I fell asleep to the sound of him calling my name, smiling sweetly as I drifted off. I realized that I couldn’t live without Mr. Tu—he had become the most important person in my life, but I didn’t know if he felt the same way about me.
In my second year at university, some of my classmates started dating, and a few boys even passed me notes, but I wasn’t interested. My heart belonged to Mr. Tu. So, the tone of my letters to him began to change. I boldly confessed my feelings, telling him that I liked him and wanted to marry him, urging him to wait for me until I graduated. Mr. Tu’s responses remained as brief and nonchalant as before. Did he not find me attractive? I stared at my reflection in the mirror, seeing a young woman blossoming like a lotus. Suddenly, I had a daring idea. On the weekend, I used the money Mr. Tu had given me for living expenses to buy a bra and a skirt, then went to a photo studio to take a series of personal photos. I sent them to Mr. Tu, convinced that he couldn’t possibly resist my youthful charm. After sending the letter, I anxiously awaited his reply. Sure enough, Mr. Tu responded quickly, returning my photos along with a short letter that brought me to tears for an entire night. “Yingzi, you’ve grown up. You should be like an eagle spreading its wings. You have a bright future ahead of you. Keep striving.”
The pain I felt was indescribable. I thought of Miss Song again. Although I wasn’t as beautiful as her, she was certainly luckier than me. But since Mr. Tu said I was like an eagle, I knew I had to be strong, spread my wings, and soar through the storms of life. That summer, I didn’t even go home because of Mr. Tu. Instead, I worked as a tutor, and combined with my income from working part-time at school and my scholarships, I was able to support myself. I wrote to Mr. Tu, telling him not to worry about sending me money anymore and that I would gradually repay what I owed him.
Not long after, my parents sent me a letter, saying that Mr. Tu was seriously ill and urging me to come home as soon as possible. In a panic, I rushed back and saw a gravely ill Mr. Tu, his face as pale as wax. It turned out that Mr. Tu had taken on two tutoring jobs to repay his own student loans and to support my education, and when he was short on money, he even sold his blood… Mr. Tu had developed severe cirrhosis, and his life was nearing its end. I was choked with emotion, unable to speak a word. How could this be? Mr. Tu, who I remembered as so vibrant and handsome, was now wasting away. In a frenzy, I rushed to the doctor’s office
, falling to my knees and begging Mr. Tu’s doctor to do whatever it took to save him. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. The doctor shook his head helplessly, and I collapsed, feeling as though I could see death beckoning. I couldn’t bear the thought of such a vibrant life withering away because of me… During Mr. Tu’s final days, many of our old teachers came to visit, including Miss Song. She was still beautiful, but time had left fine lines around her eyes.
After Mr. Tu passed away, I took two weeks off. I spent my days repeating Mr. Tu’s name and muttering incoherently. Eventually, I developed a high fever. My mother, in tears, pleaded with me not to give up on life, saying that seeing me in pain hurt her even more.
For the sake of my aging parents, I somehow managed to pull myself together after crying my eyes dry. As time passed, I found my other half and started a new life. But whenever I think of Mr. Tu and Miss Song, a deep, lingering pain remains in my heart…
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
