The Most Touching Love Stories
He couldn’t forget the plum blossom on the wall or the string of phone numbers in his heart.
During my sophomore year in college, I had an unusual encounter. It was the year I caught a cold and took a day off to rest in the dormitory. I was half-asleep when suddenly, the phone on the desk rang. Struggling to get up, I answered the call, only to hear a strange man’s voice on the other end.
“Hello, I’m looking for…” he mentioned a name I had never heard before.
I responded, “Sorry, you might have the wrong number. There’s no one by that name here.” The man uttered an “Oh” and hurriedly hung up, apologizing.
Feeling weak all over, I was about to crawl back to bed when the phone rang again—it was him. His voice on the other end had a hint of sorrow, “I’m sorry, is this number 2047102? Is your dorm number He Yuan 520?”
He Yuan 520 was the warmest dorm number I had ever heard, and yes, I lived in that dorm.
Surprised and cautious, my tone unconsciously turned stern, “Who are you? How do you know that?”
The man seemed flustered and quickly apologized, explaining his situation in haste.
It turned out he was a young officer in the local military. His ex-girlfriend had lived in this dorm before she graduated, making her my senior. They had planned to marry this year, but after graduation, she returned home to become a teacher. The long distance and her family’s disapproval eventually led to their breakup.
During their years of dating, he had dialed this familiar number countless times, sweetly discussing love and the future with his girlfriend. However, fate is unpredictable, and what awaited him was separation and sorrow.
He reminisced about his love in a deep, distant voice, while I remained suspicious. After all, some people are experts at romantic tricks, and as a girl, I had to be cautious.
Sensing my distrust, he said, “On the wall next to the left side of the bed, there’s a plum blossom engraved. If you don’t believe me, go and check. I’m not lying.”
I quickly got up and searched carefully. On the wall, there was indeed a finely etched plum blossom, so small and clean, like the bloom of youth, almost impossible to notice if you weren’t looking for it.
He said that his girlfriend had carved it for him because his name had the character “Mei,” which means plum.
He held on to the traces of love in his heart,
As if he could spend a lonely, long life with these memories.
Officer Mei was a very devoted man. In the year after their breakup, he made many efforts, constantly calling, texting, and writing letters, trying to win back his girlfriend’s heart. But not every girl is brave enough to pursue love without hesitation, and the power of reality is often beyond imagination. To make matters worse, military regulations were strict, and he couldn’t frequently take leave to visit her in person. Perhaps this is how love fades away in the face of worldly challenges.
But he still clung to the small habits formed during their love. He was used to dialing that familiar number, collecting the celebrity pictures she liked, and thinking of her dorm number, He Yuan 520, and the plum blossom on the wall late at night.
The power of habit is so strong that even when love is gone, and the person you deeply loved has left, you unconsciously continue doing the things you did when you were in love, holding on to those traces in your heart, as if you could spend a lonely, long life with these memories.
I have always had a unique admiration for those who stay true to their love. Later, Officer Mei came to the school once. A young soldier in their unit had fallen ill, and he drove the soldier to the military hospital near the school for surgery. Since we both had some free time, I accompanied him on a walk around the university campus.
He said that during their time together, he and she had only met a pitiful number of times each year, and he had only visited her at the school once. Revisiting the places they had walked together—the park and the paths—Officer Mei’s tears fell. A man must be deeply heartbroken and unable to let go to cry like this while reminiscing. It turns out that sometimes, in love, a man’s pain can be even deeper than a woman’s.
Before leaving the school, he gave me a paper bag filled with the celebrity pictures she had liked. He said, “Take them back to He Yuan 520. Keep these things in the place where she once lived. That way, I’ll feel at peace.”
I couldn’t refuse such a humble request from a man, even though I found it both touching and laughable. He couldn’t let go of the feelings of love in his heart, stubbornly trying to use this method to commemorate and continue it. But my favorite was the gentle and elegant Wallace Chung, not the slickly parted hair of Aaron Kwok!
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
