Wang Qiang clearly remembers that it was a golden autumn day, and the smell of ripeness filled the air. The rice ears in the fields blushed with shame in the autumn breeze, lowering their heads. It was just like the girl next door, Xiaoqing, who followed him around carefully, shouting, “Er ge ge (second older brother) wait for me!”
“Second brother?” Wang Qiang turned his head in displeasure and asked, ‘Who is your second brother? I’m neither the second oldest nor am I second to anyone. Please don’t call me that.”
“But! Second brother…’ Xiaoqing continued to call out and followed behind him like a little tail, which she couldn’t shake off.
Wang Qiang suddenly stopped. A wicked smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, and then he turned around sharply, picked her up in his arms, dragged her into the rice field, and started nibbling on her face.
Xiaoqing had never seen such a posture before, and she was already scared, screaming. Wang Qiang ignored her and kissed her ear randomly, and whispered in her ear, “What? Isn’t this what you want when you chase after me? Are you afraid now?”
Xiaoqing trembled with anger, and tears rolled down her face like strings of pearls.
Wang Qiang let go when he saw that his goal had been achieved, and Xiaoqing collapsed to the ground, sobbing in pain.
That year, Wang Qiang was 19 years old and Xiaoqing was 16.
The next day, Wang Qiang left to join the army. When he left, Xiaoqing followed him from afar, watching him get on the train and crying out in a small voice, “Er ge ge… Er ge ge…” as tears fell like rain.
Wang Qiang sat on the train, looking at Xiaoqing’s small figure. He felt a pang of sadness in his heart, and his eyes welled up with tears. He knew that he would not know when he would return from this trip, and even if he did, as an orphan, what could he possibly offer Xiaoqing to make her happy? He didn’t want to delay her, nor did he want to give her false hope and make her wait in vain.
The train slowly started to move, and Xiaoqing’s figure grew smaller and smaller behind him, gradually disappearing.
Wang Qiang had been in the army for five years and had never returned to his hometown. The five years had passed in a flash. When he was transferred, he was assigned to a factory in the city, and that year he returned to his hometown.
When he got off the train, he subconsciously looked around, but there was no familiar figure. He walked in the direction of home a little lost. With each step, the image of Xiaoqing became a little clearer. Finally, he arrived home, and Xiaoqing was standing in front of him. He looked at her, and she looked at him.
Wang Qiang was a little excited. He walked quickly over to her, wanting to say something.
But suddenly a small figure threw itself into Xiaoqing’s arms. Xiaoqing bent down and held the little person in her arms. Wang Qiang’s feet felt like they were glued to the ground and he could no longer take another step. His psychological loss had reached its limit. He had been mentally prepared that Xiaoqing would inevitably marry someone else, but when it actually happened, he couldn’t help feeling lost and panicked. So he turned around and walked away.
“Er, brother! Wait…“ Xiaoqing called out as she caught up with him.
Wang Qiang stopped and said indifferently, ‘Don’t call me Er, brother. I’m not Er.”
Xiaoqing turned to face Wang Qiang, her eyes red as she looked at him and said, ’Er, brother, I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Huh? Waiting long enough to have a child?” Wang Qiang sneered.
“What?” Xiaoqing was puzzled.
At that moment, the little person in her arms cried out, ”Auntie! Who is this person?”
This cry of “aunt” woke Wang Qiang up. He pointed at the child and asked, “Isn’t this your child?”
Instead of answering Wang Qiang, Xiaoqing said to the little man, ‘This is your uncle…’ Then she looked at Wang Qiang without blinking, as if she wanted to see deep into his heart.
After they got married, Wang Qiang couldn’t help but ask Xiaoqing after a long time, ‘Why did you always like to call me ’second brother’?”
Xiaoqing laughed out loud, took his hand, and wrote the character “love” in the palm of his hand
Wang Qiang then understood that his second older brother actually loved him! “This is so mushy,” Wang Qiang muttered, and then he let out a loud cry, as Xiaoqing twisted his arm. After taking a breath, he said aggrievedly, “Why do all women become shrews after getting married?…”
When Xiaoqing glared at him, he dared not say anything else, and a happy smile crept onto his face.
The most beautiful love story 2
The town was not big, and it didn’t take more than a few hours to walk from the east end to the west end. Most people in the town knew each other, and even if they didn’t, they would nod and say hello when they met. So it was rare to see a strange face in the town, and if there was one occasionally, it would definitely be big news in the town.
One early winter, I walked through the snow, carrying books in my arms, to a classmate’s house to ask for homework. Her house was a distance from mine, and on the way I had to pass through a small forest. Now the forest was covered by a thin layer of mist, like a beautiful fairy tale world. I couldn’t help but pause, and faintly heard a melodious music coming from the forest. I walked in curiously.
A boy in white was absorbed in his music with his eyes closed. That was the first time I heard someone play the harmonica. I was curious, appreciative, and a little in awe. I could tell that the boy didn’t belong in this small town. Could he be an elf in the woods or an angel who had accidentally wandered into the human world? I speculated and imagined in my heart, but I didn’t dare go up to him to find out for sure, for I was afraid that the sound of mortal life would disturb his peace.
So I quietly retreated from the forest, but the beautiful melody of the harmonica remained deeply in my mind.
That day I forgot the purpose of my outing, and with a pounding heart I ran home, hiding in my own world, drawing the boy over and over on paper, the more I drew the more my heart became confused, because none of the drawings captured the boy’s charm.
Looking at the paper balls all over the floor, I couldn’t help but sigh. My mind was in a mess. I even thought about going back to the forest to find him, to memorize his face, to verify whether he was really an elf.
But I was unable to go. My mother pushed me away. Looking at the ball of paper on the floor, she was furious. When she opened the ball of paper and saw the unformed boy drawn on the paper, she was even angrier. Insults followed as her fist landed heavily on me, as if I had committed a huge mistake that could not be forgiven.
In fact, I have already grown up. After this winter, I will be 17 years old. But in my mother’s eyes, I am still a child, like a baby in swaddling clothes, needing her to control my body and mind.
I am used to my mother’s fists. My mother is a violent person who does not allow you to explain. She feels that fists are the best and most convincing thing. When she got tired of hitting me and stopped, and was crouching down to catch her breath, she asked me, “Who is this boy?”
“I don’t know!“ I said.
“It didn’t hurt, did it? I’ll tell you what, if you don’t study hard and get a boyfriend, I’ll rip your head off,” my mother said to me almost shouting.
“Hm,” I replied, thinking to myself that the boy didn’t belong here anyway, let alone to me.
My mother muttered as she walked away, looking less fierce than before, but also a little more aged. Age is a woman’s worst enemy, especially if she is prone to anger. I stared at my mother’s back and sighed inwardly.
After that day, every time I passed through the forest, I would stop and look inside. The snow stopped falling, and the music stopped. The boy was hidden in the forest, and I couldn’t see him. My feelings of loss grew day by day. Could it be that love had ended in my heart? But doesn’t love require two people to be in love? Where is my other half? I asked the forest gently, but the forest only gave me the sound of the wind whimpering in reply. I asked the earth, but it was too hard for it to say a word. But I can’t ask my classmates or teachers, they’ll think I’ve gone crazy because love at seventeen is a secretive thing, like a shadow in the sunlight, only ever just barely following behind.
Because I was feeling down, my grades were slipping, I could see the confusion in my teacher’s eyes, and even more so the anger in my mother’s, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about the boy who could play the harmonica, wondering if he could play the melody of love.
So I was confused for an entire semester, until I saw the boy again and heard him play the harmonica again. He was still with his eyes closed, looking very focused. I stood stupidly on the side watching him. When he finished playing, he stopped, but his eyes didn’t open, so I looked curiously.
My best friend next to me pinched my arm and said, “Isn’t it beautiful? He’s my cousin, born blind, it’s a pity.”
I nodded blankly, a little disappointed that I had gotten some answers but not others. This answer made me want to cry, and it even made me lose the courage to approach him.
When I turned my head, I thought that seventeen was really not the right age to fall in love.
The most beautiful love story 3
My husband is a man who doesn’t like to talk, but my wife is someone who can’t keep her mouth shut. Whenever she’s not busy, she asks her husband, “Do you still love me?” Her husband remains silent, and she sighs, saying, “You’re like a mute.”
After hearing this, the husband still didn’t say anything, but silently continued with the work in his hands, washing her feet. This was his main task every day, because his wife worked as a salesperson in a supermarket and had to stand for eight hours every day. He had washed her feet every day since the day they got married.
The wife was indulging in her own sadness, but gradually she felt drowsy, because a pair of strong hands were massaging the soles of her feet, which made her body feel relaxed, and the drowsiness immediately came out.
She muttered discontentedly, “Every time I ask if you love me, you massage my feet…” Before she could finish, her wife had already fallen sound asleep.
The husband got up, picked up his wife’s body, which was sprawled on the sofa, and carried her back to the bedroom, before going to get the foot bath.
Love sometimes doesn’t need words, just actions are enough.
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