The Chronicles of LanM: âStories of Yesteryearâ6-9
6. Story III
Ever since the girl tore up the marriage agreement and broke off all relations with her parents, the boy had became enamoured, infatuated, hungry for money. He put everything down to his own inability â if he had the money, then things like age, profession, would all not be barriers. He thus drifted away from the ideals of chasing after your dreams, and settled into patterns of  temperamental outbursts. Heâd burn in anger out of nothing, throw things, even hurt himself⌠But despite the fact that it was her entry into his life that changed his once carefree lifestyle, he never directed his anger towards her, because she was the one he had promised to stand by for life.
Since the girl left home, for good this time, the boy had seemingly been gripped in a madness in his work. And even when she came to him with sweet words and kind gestures, heâd at most give it the bare minimum in response before burying himself back into the world on his computer. Angry, she would ask, âExactly which is more important, me or your work?â
âWithout my work I have no money, without money how do I marry you, what will I have to love you?â were the words in his mind, but not on his lips. Instead, he would respond, âStop bothering me, go away and be quiet.â
Hurt, she went into the room, shut the door, and cried â oh how she mustâve hoped that he would push the door open, come in, and give her a hug. But he was too far focused on his computer, and by the time he realized his words in those moments had been too harsh, it was late. When he went in, he found that sheâd long since fallen asleep, and because of his own fatigue, when he went to lie down for sleep he never noticed that half her pillow had been soaked through in tears, and that was the first time they slept with their backs to each other.
What is it, really, that constantly pushes life in directions away from those we desire?
For the Lunar New Year that year, the girl did not go back to her own parentsâ home, and instead went with the boy back to his home. They dared not tell his elders the details between them. Over the past two years, the boy had ceased being seen as that naive youngster, and at the dinner table he conversed freely and fluently with them all while she sat to his side and quietly listened. In the relativesâ eyes, they were seemingly a good match; she was faithful and pretty, he was smart and hard-working. The two of them felt this way as well, and that night, with her arms around his neck, she said, âLetâs name our child in the future Xiaofan, okay?â He asked why, and she replied that it was the name of the main character in the books she was reading at the time, a great character. On an average day, in order to not get in the way of his focus, sheâd just sit at home and read on her phone; sometimes for a day at a time, and thinking of this, the boyâs determination in being with her grew ever more, and he kissed her deeplyâŚâŚ
His team, because of problems with finances in the past year, had disbanded. He then signed with a newly formed team, but the new teamâs progress was slow, and wouldnât be able to pay him well in the short term. Without pay, how could he prove to her parents, what would he have to show? He ate little and slept fitfully. She saw all of this, but every time she went to console him, to tell him not to worry so much, he always misunderstood her intentions. He faulted her, thinking that she wasnât dedicated to staying together, that she was blaming him for his inability, his lack of money. And so she took it all, soaked it up like a giant sponge, while he piled it piece by piece upon his own shoulders to carry, each of them alone in their collective worries. Yet, love is like that â once worries cannot be shared, burdens be carried together, then even the smallest of things grow to unmanageable proportions.
7. Story IV
His chance was finally here: his old team was re-forming for a high-prize pool competition, and with many promises to the boy, he unflinchingly made the decision to break contract with his current team to join this team again. What he needed was money, because there was only a year left to the time he had promised to be able to marry her; there was no more time for him to waste. The insults, criticism, character attacks⌠would all be worth it as long as the two of them could stay together. Finally, he was reunited with teammates of past days, and even though some promises the team made never did come true, by this point he had no retreat. He put practically everything he had into it, even ignoring the girl when she was by his side: all he wanted was to win, win this tournament, take her home. In those days, the girl felt that he had almost changed into a different person, and even the smallest of requests from her would spark him into wrath.
One day, she got sick and ended up having to stay in a hospital far away from his training house. With training every day, he had no way to visit her, so she spent each night alone in the hospital, tears streaming in hope, then despair, all as the boy never showed up. She heart-breakingly wrote a letter to him, a letter of break up. She called him and told him that if he still wouldnât come see her, then sheâd leave. At 4 in the morning, he finally made it there, visibly exhausted, but she still gave him the letter sheâd written. He read it, then tore it into shreds in a flurry of his own tears, and from that day on, heâd go and spend the nights after training by her side. In that period, the boy, who already looked sort of goofy, took on the looks of a drug addict in all his exhaustion; but he could not fall, because he had promised.
The day after the tournament, he stared blankly at her QQ avatar on his screen. Despite all her consolation, he still felt heâd lost. Lost everything, lost the tournament, and lost her; he was a complete, through and through loser. In the days afterwards, he struggled⌠he feared losing her, and lacked the power to face reality. Sometimes he thought to himself, thereâs no way to give her what she deserves; he should just stop holding her back. Even though sheâd chosen him, he ultimately bowed to the reality of it. He became dark and moody, his actions were as if he wanted her to leave. Sheâd long since replaced the flashy designer logos in the past with cheaper, wholesale items.
One day, the girl mentioned that she wanted to go back home to grab some of her old clothes, but the boy interpreted this to mean that she had thoughts of giving up on it all, on them. He became irritable, but she was one with great patience, and went on absorbing it all, bit by bit, despite the fact that heâd been getting more and more out of hand. In a flash, another Lunar New Year was upon them, and this time she insisted on going back home to visit her ageing parents. She wanted him to come along, but he was afraid. He was afraid that his pitiful self-respect and dignity would be trampled again. She was upset, but with no other alternative, she went back home for the holiday herself. Just before parting, she said to him, âYou promised to marry me this yearâŚâ He had nothing to sayâŚ
After that, he lost himself. He told her, âLetâs break up.â She thought it was just another episode of his antics⌠But after he ended it, he went on QQ and began adding all sorts of females that he wouldâve paid no heed to beforehand, flirting with them all. He himself wasnât clear on why he was doing this; he thought no one would care about him, he wanted to forget about her and all of it, their life together had been so much work⌠But he simply did not see the girlâs side of it at all. She had persisted for two years in the face of pressure from her family, pleading, arguing, trying to convince her parents. Over two years, they had almost relented to the stubborn girl, yet at just this time she was shown chat logs of his interactions with all these new people, and in her heart it was as if a thousand ants tore at it at once, piercing pain. Was this him? Was this really the one that had promised to love only her for eternity?
8. Story V
When her text arrived, questioning whether it was really him, the boy was blank. Theyâd been together nearly three years, and heâd never hurt her like this before; heâd always tried to keep her safely protected within the palm of his hand. She had always been so easily satisfied, not spoiled at all; during the Mid-Autumn Festival, theyâd gone out together and she didnât want to buy anything, only stopping at a mooncake shop and picking a few of the cheapest ones. They were the best sheâd ever had, she had said. But now, now in his chats he was telling these other girls that heâd been training over Mid-Autumn, erasing all of this; what a monstrous thing for him to do. He immediately called the girl, and mired in feelings of both fear and shame, he deleted that other womanâs QQ, hoping to just run from it all like this. From that day on, the girl had nightmares at night, waking in tear-soaked fits â that half a month passed slowly as if it were half a year instead, and he never once called her again during. Finally, she couldnât stop herself anymore, and dialled in that string of familiar digits on her phone. It was 3 in the morning, he should be sleeping, and she feared that sheâd hear the other womanâs voice on the other end.
âWhy arenât you speaking?â his question broke a long silence. âWho is next to you?â came her response, her voice giving away that sheâd cried recently. âTeammates. You cried?â piercing pains thrust into his heart. He had once been so afraid of seeing her cry; no matter how heated an argument would be, once her tears dropped, all his anger would fade and heâd go to her and hug her for forgiveness⌠But now heâd let her cry by herself for so long. She hung up. She didnât know why she had to call him, he was just a lying piece of shit anyway.
When he learned that she often woke up in the middle of the night crying, that her parents were on the verge of agreeing to them being together, he practically wanted to kill himself â because it was by his own hand, his own doing, that he destroyed all of their happiness, their future. Regret came, and he went to her and asked forgiveness. Soft-hearted, the girl eventually accepted, and everything seemingly went back to before; only that, now, she felt there was something different about this person before her, the person who had once promised to only love her was no longer the same person now.
Valentineâs Day, 2013, she gifted him a set of clothes. Sheâd always liked to buy him colorful, bright clothes. She would cheerfully explain to him, âYouâre dark-skinned and ugly, so you should wear colors to brighten yourself up a bit.â
And heâd happily reply, âIf Iâm ugly then why do you like me?â âIâm afraid no one else will want you,â she responded, patting him on the forehead.
Except, this time it wasnât the vibrant colors of before, and in its place was the lifeless tone of black. She said, âThe North is cold, take good care of yourself.â And the boy, as usual, was careless and didnât pay enough attention to notice all the pressure she was under.
A few days later around noon, the boy called her as usual after getting up, yet he never though that this would be their last time speaking. He asked if sheâd be online later, and after a long silence from her, the response came, as if she was busy and couldnât answer conveniently: âJust go and find something to do with your friends,â and then she hurriedly hung up the phone. Feeling something wasnât right, he dialled her number back, but all he got was the busy signal, and then she sent a text over: âMom and dad are taking me to go meet someone.â Angered, he felt she shouldnât be going, but no matter how he called her, she wouldnât respond again. In her lowest days, she had told her parents that sheâd been discarded by the boy, and her parents, already lacking any good impressions of him, took the chance and flooded her in a new deluge of lecturing. Youâre not young anymore, you should go and find a proper partner as soon as possible. She never wanted to accept any of it, but this time even though they had gotten back together, she dared not confront her parents with it again.
In madness, the boy called, sent texts, begging her to give him another year, to believe in him one more time. But she only responded once, âSooner or later youâll meet someone younger and prettier than me, who will make you love her even deeper. You must work hard to do better for yourself. Our love has been the greatest time of my life, but this time I cannot wait any longer, I donât want to hurt my parents any more.â No matter how he begged, she never replied again.
9. Story VI
In the following days, he drank, wasted away online, and even went without eating entire for entire days, returning home only after night had passed and daylight came again. At home, he could only fall asleep after exhausting himself from crying. In his waking hours, he still dialled her number, but there never was an answer. Though he put on a different face in front of friends, he wasnât normal. Every time, going downstairs, at the bottom of the stairs heâd habitually stoop down to let her piggyback along⌠but she wasnât there anymore, wasnât there anymore to tell him to grow some meat on those bones, or else you wonât be able to carry me anymoreâŚ
Half a year later, that familiar number appeared at the head of a text message. This past half year, heâd been in a haze. Once in the past, upon meeting her, he had a drive to life, that she was his dream. But everythingâs gone now⌠âMay 1st Iâm getting married, will you come?â
âOh, okay.â
That day, the boy tidied his by-then shoulder-length hair, shaved. Long since stored away, he dug out the leather jacket, jeans, and green sneakers they had once bought together. When theyâd bought it, he had been a little timid in accepting a gift from her. She told him, âEh, donât be afraid to accept gifts I buy for you!â Somehow, now, she was about to step into her wedding gown, into a marriage with someone else. He watched as they exchanged rings, kisses, vows. He didnât feel pain any longer. These past three years of struggle ultimately lost out to reality, and now he had no more regret, no well-wishes, just numbness. As the new bride and groom went around toasting the guests, he stepped onto the stage and picked up the microphoneâŚ
Once ago, now, things past will not come back Bright red, falling leaves, rest long in the dust and dirt The beginning and the end, ended up never changing At the edge of the heavens you drift, away from the clouds A sea of pain, in its waves stir love and hate In this world, difficult to escape from destiny Matchmaking, an untouchable boundary Or I should, just believe this is fate Lovers, upon farewell, will never, return (a disappearing love) In silence, solitude, gazes on the world beyond (hopes of continuing on in days to come) Fresh flowers may wither (only wish) but they may bloom again (for you) A lifeâs love hidden (with you) on the other side of those clouds (waiting)
After that, it was as if heâd set down a lifetime of burdens as he peacefully walked toward the door. The crowd, stunned by this strangerâs exit, had no response; only the girl, seeing his soulless shadow departing, her tears quietly fell within her heartâŚ
If you all donât like this story, this ending, then Iâll tell another one.
Itâs been 11 days. Tears, pain, heart rendering yells. All unable to fill all this emptiness in the heart. Remembering back our bits and pieces together, everything seemingly like it happened yesterday. He still promises that, in this life, itâs her or no one. Only this time, what he needs are witnesses, what he needs are well-wishes. If he fails, then just let the love of yesteryear be sealed up with this unfinished story. If he succeeds, he will keep his promise for life, and come back to put another ending to this story.
By the time youâve read this far, heâs already started out. He hopes that, for each of you that has perservered and read his story to this point, to be generous in your wishes and support for him, to be his witnesses. And help him face reality, so that he may never bow his head down again.










