Xiyin

I searched up “beautiful love story” on Baidu, and found a small story. Maybe not the most beautiful love story, but I thought it was sweet enough to translate and post here ^^d Here it is: 

The girl finally worked up the courage to say to the boy, “Let’s break up.”

The boy asked, “Why?”

The girl said, “When we’ve become weary, there is no need for a reason.”

One Night

The boy just smokes and does not speak. The girl’s heart becomes cooler and cooler. A lover who won’t even press me to stay on; what type of happiness can he give me?

A long time passes. Finally, the boy can’t help asking, “What do I have to do for you to stay?”

The girl slowly said, “Answer a question for me…if you can provide the answer that’s in my heart, I’ll stay.” (She pauses) Like…what if I really like a flower on the edge of a cliff? If you go to pick it, it’s one hundred percent guaranteed that you’ll perish. Would you pick the flower for me?”

The boy thought for a few minutes, and then said, “Can I give you my answer tomorrow morning?”

Instantly, the girl’s heart turned to ash.

In the morning, the boy had already left. There was only a sheet of paper covered with words, under a warm cup of milk. From the first line of text, her heart was shot through with disappointment.

Beloved, I would not pick the flower.

But please allow me to state the reasons why I would not go to pick the flower.

You only know how to use the computer to type, but you always get the programming into a complete mess, and then cry at the keyboard. I need to keep my fingers to sort your programs.

You always forget the keys when you go out. I have to keep my feet so I can run back to open the door for you.

You who passionately loves to travel, constantly gets lost in your own city. I need to keep my eyes so I can show you the way.

Every month, at that time when your (good friend) is here, you always feel chilly all over, and your stomach hurts too. I need to keep my palms so I can warm your tummy. (=the underbelly/lower abdomen)

You don’t like to leave the house. I’m worried that you’ll develop autism. I have to keep my mouth so I can drive away your loneliness (through chatter), and provide you with company.

You’re always staring at the computer. As a result, your eyes have been abused so they aren’t very good. I have to live as well as I can so that when you’re old, I can cut your nails for you, help you get rid of those white hairs that vex you, and hold your hand as we enjoy beautiful sunshine and soft sand by the seaside. So that I can tell you the color and beauty of each flower is like the face of your youth. So, when I cannot ascertain that there is a person who loves you more than I do, I don’t want to go pick that flower…”

At this point, the girl’s tears fell onto the paper as crystal-like and translucent flowers. After wiping her eyes, she continued to read.

Beloved, if you’ve already finished reading and the answer is one that satisfies you…please open the door. I’m currently standing outside the door, with your favorite fresh milk-bread in hand…

The girl pulled opened the door, and saw that his face was as worried as a nervous child’s. All he could do was take the bread that he clutched at and shakily hold it in front of her eyes.