Those Years I Loved You Most
I struggled to climb out of hell, trying to control the darkness in my heart, unconditionally believing everything you said—Xu Qingyan?
March 6, 1972
It had been five days since going to the countryside, and Meng Luosheng still couldn’t adapt to the heavy farm labor or the simple living conditions at the youth work point.
The paddy fields were bone-chilling cold; leeches clung to her body; her waist ached unbearably; her skin had visibly roughened, and she tossed and turned at night, unable to sleep.
None of this was something a former young lady like her could endure.
Ahead, she saw the refined and handsome young man in a wheelchair again.
He tucked away the tired expression on his face and smiled as he greeted her.
“Comrade Xu, good morning.”
In her eyes was a brilliant smile, and by her ear, her gentle voice.
Xu Qingyan tightly clasped his hands together, controlling the trembling of his body, and responded with a warm smile:
“Good morning, Comrade Meng.”
He lowered his head, looked at the items on his lap, and slowly placed his hands on them.
When he lifted his head again, there was light in his eyes as he offered the items with both hands, respectfully.
“There are two eggs and a bun. It’s nothing special, please don’t look down on it.”
These were prepared especially by his mother in the morning, the best they had at home.
The muddy country roads were difficult to walk on, especially after rain.
Three days ago, he had accidentally fallen outside.
His wheelchair had pinned him down, and sharp stones had cut into his chest.
This wasn’t the first time; it had been a recurring part of his life since childhood.
At that moment, he had a moment of despair, thinking death might be better.
He stayed on the ground for a long time, letting the wheelchair crush him, his chest aching sharply.
From above came a gentle, heavenly voice:
“I’ll help you.”
He looked up and saw a pair of tender, peach-blossom eyes.
The owner of those eyes had a strikingly beautiful yet approachable and warm face.
For a moment, he thought he had seen an angel.
The angel lifted the wheelchair off him, squatted in front of him, and extended her hands, looking apologetic.
“There will be some unavoidable physical contact, but don’t worry, it will be over quickly.”
He didn’t know where she got the strength, but in his wide eyes, she lifted him from the ground and placed him in the wheelchair.
Breathing lightly, she said satisfactorily:
“All done, Comrade, goodbye for now.”
When he reacted, all that remained was her slender, light, and beautiful back.
Like a mountain spirit, appearing suddenly and vanishing just as quickly.
Yet she left an indelible mark on his barren, desolate life.
Meng Luosheng crouched to his level, meeting his gaze, but politely refused to take the items.
“Thanks, I’ve already eaten.”
She looked at his body wrapped in a long robe and asked the same question she had been asking these past few days:
“Are your injuries any better?”
The items were still not delivered. Xu Qingyan lowered his head, disappointed, his voice muffled.
“Yes, a bit better.”
Meng Luosheng pretended not to notice, nodded, and stood up.
“That’s good. I’m going to work now. See you next time.”
She waved, bypassed him, and walked ahead.
Xu Qingyan turned his head, watching her back, a mist rising in his eyes.
He threw the items to the ground.
If she didn’t want them, he didn’t either.
When leaving, he no longer felt the nervousness of her arrival, and the light in his eyes was gone.
Back at home, his mother asked:
“Did you deliver the items?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
She asked again:
“Then what about the items?”
He lowered his head.
“Threw them away.”
Chen Xiue sighed helplessly, squatted down, and gently looked at her son, saying what she had long wanted to:
“Qingyan, Mom knows Meng Luosheng is a good girl, and that you like her very much. But in the end, you two are not meant to be. Promise me, forget her, and don’t go looking for her again. I don’t want you to be trapped in the pain of wanting someone you can’t have.”
Better a short pain than a long one; she didn’t want her son to chase someone he could never have.
Xu Qingyan didn’t speak, pushing his wheelchair back to his room.
When the door closed, he seemed to have lost all strength.
Leaning limply against the wheelchair, lifeless.
He took the blade hidden in his clothes and cut his wrist expressionlessly.
Pain made him feel he was still alive, not a walking corpse.
He wasn’t born unable to walk.
It was a human-caused accident that left him in his current limbo, half-man, half-ghost.
Ironically, he had killed his enemy with only one steamed bun.
Yet he still lived in hell, day and night enduring the pain in his legs, along with people’s pity and gossip.
A living death.
Finally, a glimmer of light appeared in his life.
But he didn’t deserve it.
Despair surrounded him.
He sliced his wrist again, blood dripping.
Someone like him did not deserve, nor had the right, to possess happiness.
Days passed, and Meng Luosheng’s life had no sign of the wheelchair-bound young man.
She did not recall him, living her ordinary but exhausting days.
Working with a hungry stomach and a dizzy, clouded mind.
She gritted her teeth, believing that one day, she would return.
When someone offered to help her with work, she smiled and refused:
“No, thanks.”
She didn’t want any ties with anyone here.
Treating everyone gently, yet letting no one enter her heart.
On the way back to the youth work point, she passed a secluded spot.
A man with hair covering his eyes and scruffy beard blocked her way.
Rubbing his hands together with a lecherous smile:
“Comrade Meng, all alone? Want me to escort you back?”
Meng Luosheng cautiously stepped back.
“No need.”
As she retreated, the man moved closer.
“Alone is boring, let me escort you.”
He reached for her hand.
A cold light flashed in her eyes.
She crouched, grabbed a handful of dirt, and threw it at his face.
Blinded and cursing, he chased after her, but she ran away swiftly.
Without looking back, her face remained calm and composed.
This was not the first time such an incident had happened.
She was used to it.
Including when someone trespassed at night but was injured by broken glass she had spread at the entrance, leaving embarrassed and silent.
Breathing normally again, she entered the youth work point.
Wang Xiaoli, cooking inside, heard the sounds and peeked out:
“You’re back.”
She had taken a sick day today, otherwise Meng Luosheng wouldn’t be alone.
Meng Luosheng nodded, a smile on her face:
“Yeah, I’m back. What’s for lunch?”
“Sweet potato porridge.”
Meng Luosheng went to help, but Wang Xiaoli pushed her out.
“You’ll be fine. Don’t tire yourself with work.”