Touching short Love Story: childhood memories
University had appeared in her dreams countless times. But when she actually stepped onto the campus, there was no rush of excitement as she had imagined. Instead, her heart was filled with a faint sense of unease. Her uncle, who had accompanied her, remarked, “The fees are high, but the environment seems pretty average.” His words jolted her, and she smiled in agreement, saying, “Yes, yes.” After handling the paperwork and settling into her dorm, they had a simple meal. Before leaving, her uncle reminded her to stay safe and to call if she needed anything. As Ya Jun watched him walk away, she felt a strange mix of isolation and unexpected relief.
Upon arriving in the dorm, the girls exchanged polite introductions, each trying to make a good first impression. Though they were strangers, they all kept to themselves and went to bed early, around 10 p.m. Lying on her back, Ya Jun relaxed into the bed, her mind slowly drifting to memories from the past…
In her small rural village, the days were never tiring for the people. At dawn, the air was still moist with the freshness of dew. Ya Jun always woke up without needing an adult to call her. After her grandmother finished in the kitchen and fed the chickens and ducks, Ya Jun would eat breakfast by herself, pack her lunch, and walk to school with other children. Later, her younger sister started school too, and their walk was now filled with her sister’s noisy chatter. Grandma would often laugh and say, “Your voices get home before you do.” Their childhood was filled with the joy of running through bamboo forests, vegetable gardens, and rice fields. In spring, they’d follow their grandmother into the bamboo forest to dig for bamboo shoots, carrying small bamboo baskets. In summer, they’d sneak into nearby gardens to steal watermelons, washing them in the spring water before enjoying their sweet refreshment. During the autumn harvest, Grandma, Mom, and the girls would gather to cut rice. As Ya Jun grew older, she could finally join in the rice cutting. Over the years, she learned to move easily through the fields, even mastering how to blow through the rice stems, producing a whistle-like sound. The fields were filled with laughter, and Grandma, with her wrinkled face, would squint her eyes and smile. Her mother, usually serious and reserved, would also laugh freely, looking at Ya Jun with affection. Her sister, as always, was her playful self, shouting about wanting to blow on the rice stems as well. As the wind blew across the fields, carrying with it the smell of ripening grains, Ya Jun’s mind slowly drifted into dreams, following these memories.
“Ah, why do we have to wake up early? Why do we have morning classes?” As usual, there was a round of groaning when it was time to wake up. After living together for half a semester, everyone in the dorm was used to it. Jian Lu, after her morning complaints, would slowly get dressed and ready, always managing to join the others just in time despite her late start. The six girls in the dorm naturally divided into two groups based on their geographic origins—north and south. Only Jian Lu seemed to move freely between both groups, often acting as a bridge in their conversations. She was also the one who initiated most of their late-night dorm talks. They attended a women’s college, so men were a rare sight on campus. The few men around were mostly older professors. If anyone wanted to date, they’d have to look outside the school. On Singles’ Day (November 11th), after finishing their online shopping spree right at midnight, Jian Lu shouted, “There are fewer guys at our school than I have fingers on one hand! Who am I even buying all these beauty products for? Come on, if anyone wants to confess their love to me, I’ll accept—gender doesn’t matter!” Ya Jun chimed in, “I’m not sure I could handle someone like you.” Jian Lu shot back, “If you can’t handle me, then tell us—what kind of person would you go for? Come on, let’s all share our stories. Ya Jun, you go first.” As the light from their phone screens gradually dimmed, everyone settled in to listen or reflect on their own memories.
After thinking for a moment, Ya Jun began slowly, “I’ve never had a boyfriend, but there was someone I liked. After I graduated high school, I worked as a quality inspector at my aunt’s factory. There was a guy there, about ten years older than me, who was very kind to me. I called him ‘Uncle.’ He was tall, handsome, and had a youthful face, so he didn’t look his age at all. When we went out to the karaoke halls, the hostesses would often sit on his lap. He had this roguish smile, and his accent was… well, I don’t even know how to describe it, but it was funny. I worked shifts for two months, alternating between day and night. Every day, he would drive me to and from work. If he saw me struggling with something heavy, he’d take it from me without a word. When others teased me, he’d step in to scold them. He always handled our accounts, and on days off, he’d take me out for meals. At first, I thought he was just being nice because of my aunt, and I treated him like an older brother. But then one day, while we were joking around with a group of colleagues, he casually rested his elbow on my shoulder. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, I found it comforting. That’s when I realized my feelings had changed.”
The dorm fell silent as Ya Jun finished. One of the more outspoken girls from the north broke the quiet, “So, did anything happen? Did you guys ever express your feelings?” Ya Jun shook her head. “I didn’t have the courage, and I’m not sure about him.” One by one, the other girls began sharing their own stories. But Ya Jun kept her deeper thoughts to herself: the man she had feelings for was a husband, and a father. His child even called her “Watermelon Sister.” His marriage had problems long before she came into the picture—maybe the only thing holding it together was their child. But now that the child was growing up, that thread was thinning, and their marriage was on the verge of collapse. Her mind wandered, thinking about her grandmother back home, who always reminisced at dusk about how devoted and loving Ya Jun’s father had been. Her grandmother had even secretly kept one of his photos. Ya Jun reached under her pillow for her diary, pulled out the photo, and shone her phone’s light on her father’s face. The longer she looked, the blurrier it became. She couldn’t help but wonder—if her father had still been alive, would her life have turned out differently?
Her phone buzzed, startling her. It was a message from “Uncle”: “Hey, wife, how’s life?” Ya Jun’s heart skipped a beat—not just because of the message’s content, but because they hadn’t been in touch since she started school. She felt both excited and awkward, unsure how to respond. Before she could gather her thoughts, another message came through: “Just kidding, haha.” That was more like him. They began chatting casually again, with her sharing stories about school and her dormmates, and him updating her on his life after his divorce. He told her his son now lived with him and often kept him company as he ate some snacks and drank a beer (his son, of course, only drank soda). Though she knew she should feel sorry for him, all Ya Jun could feel was a strange and inappropriate sense of excitement. Over the next year, they stayed in regular contact.
By the time her second year was ending, Ya Jun was starting to prepare for graduation, as her diploma program only lasted three years. She began applying for internships online and decided to stay in Fuzhou. Her first job was as a telemarketer, selling tea over the phone. She disliked receiving sales calls herself, but she dialed away at her list of potential customers nonetheless. Some hung up immediately. Others pretended not to understand her Mandarin, speaking in thick regional accents. Some even chatted with her for a long time before suddenly laughing and saying they weren’t interested. There were also a few polite refusals, but actual sales were extremely rare. After a month of this, she gave up and switched to an administrative assistant internship, where she basically ran errands. During this period of half-study, half-work, “Uncle” confessed his feelings for her. Ya Jun knew the relationship was bound to be criticized, and she was right. When he finally confessed his love and asked how she felt, she was both excited and scared. Wanting some advice, she asked her younger sister Ya Yan, who simply replied, “If you like him, then say yes. But don’t string him along—he’s not young anymore.” Half in excitement, half in fear, she agreed.
Time flew by, and soon, three years of college had passed in a blur. When she finally received her diploma, Ya Jun felt a sense of disbelief. Was this really what college was? So close yet so distant, and gone in the blink of an eye. After graduation, she smoothly transitioned from her internship into a full-time position. She rented a shared apartment and stayed in regular contact with “Uncle.” But late at night, she found herself less focused on memories and more on her future. She questioned what she was gaining from her job beyond a paycheck for basic living expenses. Though she’d become more efficient at handling small tasks, she didn’t feel like she was learning anything of substance. After a year, she began to think about finding a new job. When
she asked for “Uncle’s” advice, he suggested she return to their hometown—admitting he had a personal stake in the suggestion. After much thought, and considering her grandmother’s health and her lack of job prospects in Fuzhou, she decided to return. She also planned to introduce “Uncle” to her family.
She resigned, packed her belongings, shipped them home, and bought a ticket. Everything was going smoothly, and for the first time in a while, she felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement. When she stepped off the bus, there he was, waiting for her. He wasn’t on his phone, nor did he look impatient. He simply stood there, calm and steady. “Maybe I made the right choice,” she thought. There were no hugs, no tears, no heartfelt confessions. Just a simple, “You made it. No motion sickness, right?” He took her bag, and she felt instantly at ease. “I’m fine,” she replied. His presence gave her a sense of peace. “Let’s go to my place,” she said. He raised an eyebrow and smiled, “Guess it’s time for the ugly son-in-law to meet the parents. Let’s go.”
As expected, her mother wasn’t welcoming. But due to her reserved nature, she didn’t outright demand that he leave. Her stepfather didn’t say much either, and the four of them sat down to an awkward dinner. Afterward, her mother finally spoke, her tone cold: “You should leave now.” Once “Uncle” had left, her mother sat down next to her. “Why did you choose him? You’re not like me—you had options. Why would you pick a divorced man with a child, and one who’s ten years older? And what will people say about you two? What will they say about our family?”
“I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t care what people say. So what if he’s divorced? Lots of people are divorced these days,” Ya Jun argued back.
“What do you see in him? So what if he’s good-looking? He has a child. When the kid gets older and starts misbehaving, what are you going to do? Do you think the kid will listen to you? You’re just going to make life harder for yourself,” her mother’s voice was rising in frustration.
“You don’t understand. We’ll see how things go,” Ya Jun replied. She didn’t dare mention “love” in front of her mother. In their world, love was an impractical, incomprehensible concept. She didn’t expect them to understand, but she wanted to stick with her choice.
The next morning, Ya Jun packed some things and went to visit her grandmother in the countryside. She didn’t tell her in advance, worried that Grandma would wait outside for her. As she reached the door, she called out, just like when she was little: “Grandma, I’m home!” Grandma swiftly came out, her white hair neatly clipped back. Though her clothes were worn, they were still clean and tidy. As she fussed over why Ya Jun didn’t let her know ahead of time, they sat down to eat and later went for a walk in the fields, just like they had done so many times before. As the evening sun began to set, they sat on the stone bench in front of the house, gazing at the yellowed sky. Ya Jun rambled on to her grandmother: “I know everyone thinks he’s not good enough for me. I know they all think I’m being immature, wasting the money that was spent on my education, not getting a good job, and ending up with someone like him. But I just want to be with him. That’s all I want.”
Her grandmother gently stroked her hair and said, “If you want to be with him, then be with him. Just don’t regret it. Your mother and your stepfather have done a lot for you. You should talk to them and make sure they understand.” Tears welled up in Ya Jun’s eyes—both because of her grandmother’s understanding and the guilt she felt toward her mother and stepfather. She was also thinking about the hurtful things people had said, how society’s expectations linked education with income, and how they used it to judge her choices in life. Leaning on her grandmother’s shoulder, she asked, “Grandma, tell me about my dad again.” Grandma smiled, her face full of wrinkles, and began to retell her favorite stories about her late son. As Ya Jun listened, her thoughts drifted to what could have been another version of her life.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
