youthful romance
Hang Cheng’s childhood was chaotic. His family had just moved to a small alley in Shanghai, where evenings were the liveliest time of day. Each household cooked their meals, filling the air with a mixture of delicious aromas. Children returning from school would play and jostle, crowding the narrow alleys. Hang Cheng was the most well-behaved child in the alley, sitting on a stool in front of his house reading a book. The adults passing by would praise him, saying, “Hang Cheng is sure to be successful in the future.” Hang Cheng would just smile humbly.
The least promising child was the girl who lived across from him, Li Ya. Li Ya was three years older than Hang Cheng, not good at her studies, and always getting into trouble. Her father had died when she was very young, and her mother, who raised her alone, had a rough temperament, resorting to slaps and sticks to discipline her. Hang Cheng often saw Li Ya jumping around in her room, trying to dodge her mother’s beatings.
One evening, during a sudden downpour, Li Ya appeared in front of Hang Cheng. He was packing his school bag and turned around to see a breathless, soaking wet Li Ya. He stared for a moment before asking, “Are you looking for me?”
She nodded, then shook her head, stared at Hang Cheng for a while longer, and then turned to leave.
Hang Cheng found it odd but didn’t ask anything. The spot where Li Ya stood left behind a faint scent, a mix of spicy and sweet.
That night, Hang Cheng was home alone, intermittently glancing at the clock while doing his homework. Li Ya stood across from him, staring. Feeling uncomfortable under her gaze, Hang Cheng went back to his room. After a while, there was a knock at the door. Hang Cheng opened it to find Li Ya holding a bowl of noodles.
“I know you’re hungry. Eat.”
Hang Cheng didn’t take it.
“Take it!”
He remained motionless.
“You’re so stubborn.” Li Ya placed the bowl on the table and turned to leave. Only then did Hang Cheng speak up, “What do you really want?”
“What do you really want?” In any situation, this question is full of wariness and impatience. In fourteen-year-old Hang Cheng’s mind, Li Ya was a notorious troublemaker, but when this troublemaker showed embarrassment and hesitation, he felt a bit puzzled.
After hesitating for a long time, Li Ya finally said, “I skipped class today and saw your mom cross the street against a red light after buying groceries… your dad arrived later… probably no hope…”
Hang Cheng froze, his body trembling uncontrollably. He rudely pushed Li Ya out. His dad called later, telling him to go to bed, but he couldn’t sleep all night. The next day, he sought out Li Ya, asking her to take him to the accident site. Li Ya didn’t refuse, and they walked one behind the other.
Across the traffic, Hang Cheng saw a large, unwashed bloodstain on the road and a blood-soaked women’s sandal at the corner. He silently walked over and picked it up, tears streaming down his face. Li Ya awkwardly tried to comfort him, saying, “Don’t be sad, your mom just went to another place. My dad too, they’ll be fine and will look over us…”
Hang Cheng cried even harder. He didn’t think Li Ya was kind and considerate; he only felt very sad and that this girl was very annoying.
Time can heal all wounds. Three years passed, and Hang Cheng and his dad’s lives slowly returned to normal. During these three years, Li Ya and her mother subtly looked after them. Li Ya’s mother occasionally cooked for them and cleaned, while Hang Cheng’s dad silently helped them change their gas tank every month.
Li Ya became more obedient, stopped getting into trouble, grew her hair long, and became prettier, though her grades never improved, and she eventually dropped out to work as a cashier at a supermarket. Sometimes she would bring lunch to Hang Cheng, and his classmates would ask, “Is that your sister? She smells nice.”
Hang Cheng neither confirmed nor denied. Yes, as the years passed, the spicy scent on Li Ya was gradually replaced by an increasingly strong sweetness.
However, shortly after Li Ya became obedient, rumors spread that she was seeing a married man. Hang Cheng had seen the man before, in his thirties, still handsome. Once, he happened to see Li Ya after work, linking arms with him and walking into a nearby café. Hang Cheng squatted on the steps across the street, watching them talk, laugh, and embrace. After a long time, Li Ya came out, saw Hang Cheng, and lowered her head.
They continued to walk one behind the other, and as time passed, their relationship didn’t seem to improve. Hang Cheng couldn’t clearly describe his feelings for Li Ya. Sometimes he found her adorable, other times he thought she was incredibly foolish. In contrast, he preferred Li Ya’s mother, who, despite her coarseness, had a real and resilient quality that made him feel at ease.
As they neared home, Li Ya finally spoke, “I like him.”
Hang Cheng stopped, lighting a cigarette. He had learned to smoke after his mother died, though his father didn’t know.
“He’s been so good to me. No one has ever been this good to me,” Li Ya’s voice was tinged with sadness.
Hang Cheng coldly continued walking, and Li Ya leaned against the wall, crying.
The street lamps were dim, making the alley seem even more dilapidated. Hang Cheng’s figure grew more distant, and Li Ya’s sobs faded away.
If he could, Hang Cheng would go back to that moment, gently hug her as she cried, or at least pat her on the back. Li Ya left home that winter, leaving behind a simple farewell: “I’m leaving, don’t look for me.” Li Ya’s mother was furious, searched everywhere but couldn’t find her, and eventually broke down in tears. Hang Cheng stood silently by, afraid to speak. The man still lingered around the supermarket where Li Ya used to work. Li Ya hadn’t eloped with him, so why did she leave?
Hang Cheng didn’t understand. It seemed Li Ya had once mentioned that if she ever had the chance, she wanted to go far away, with no particular destination, just as far as possible.
Hang Cheng didn’t understand Li Ya’s loneliness.
That winter, Hang Cheng’s father died of an asthma attack.
On New Year’s Eve, Hang Cheng and Li Ya’s mother sat together eating dumplings, with firecrackers going off outside. They had a small black-and-white TV that sometimes lost its picture. Hang Cheng watched intently as people laughed and cried on the screen, but those outside the screen made no sound.
That night, Hang Cheng dreamed of Li Ya. She was wearing a white dress, standing in the alley, with rain falling quietly. Hang Cheng had his back to her, and the air was filled with the scent of roses and raindrops. These scents reminded him of Li Ya, as if her presence filled the air.
However, he was about to leave these scents behind.
At school, Hang Cheng received a postcard from Li Ya, postmarked from a small town in central China.
Li Ya wrote: “Hang Cheng, how are you? How is Mom? You will take care of her for me, won’t you?
“Hang Cheng, I’ve changed many cities, and the world is endless…”
Hang Cheng’s life continued as usual, but the postcards from Li Ya stopped during his college years.
After graduation, he worked as a trader in a securities company. In 20XX, the stock market soared, and Hang Cheng moved into a new house with Li Ya’s mother. He fell in love, was preparing to get married, and everything seemed so natural, as if his past had been erased and a new life was emerging with the scent of freshly baked bread.
But at this moment, Hang Cheng received a call from Li Ya. The scorching August sun baked the earth, and the sound of waves came through the phone. Li Ya said, “Hang Cheng, I’m at the dam, the closest place to the water. I feel like I’m about to fly.” Her voice hadn’t changed, still hoarse with a hint of sweetness.
Hang Cheng asked, “Where are you?”
“Qiantang River…” Li Ya managed to say before the signal cut off.
Hang Cheng called back, but the line was never reconnected. He booked a flight to Hangzhou for the next day.
That evening, the news reported a story: A tidal bore incident at the Seven Forts of Qiantang River in Hangzhou had swept away over thirty people, leaving eight missing.
That night, Hang Cheng’s sense of smell seemed to malfunction, as if the air was filled with Li Ya’s scent.
It turned out he had never forgotten her.
Hang Cheng called off his engagement, paying a large sum to his fiancée, and then set off. He traveled following the postmarks on Li Ya’s postcards, finally understanding what he had missed. In just a few seconds, some people became eternal memories, and some feelings were buried deep in his heart.
Three months later, Hang Cheng returned to the Qiantang River. The scenery was beautiful, with children running barefoot on the dam. The sky was blue, and birds chirped softly as they flew by.
Three months earlier, it had been the best time to watch the tidal bore of the Qiantang River, attracting people from all over the country.
Li Ya had stood on the dam and called Hang Cheng, feeling an urge to hear his voice. They had barely spoken before the waves came crashing in, sweeping her away, and she was never found again.
Hang Cheng’s memories froze at the image of Li Ya bringing him lunch years ago, smiling sweetly
. Back then, Li Ya was like a freshly sprouted wheat, full of vitality.
Eternity is just a lie people tell themselves to comfort the pain of lost love and death.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
