Love, please don't bloom

Chapter 17

If this is a dream

I'd rather be drunk forever than wake up.

I have endured

I wait like this

Perhaps we're waiting for you to arrive.

Perhaps we're waiting for you to arrive...

There is a faint sadness in this love.

She always had a slight sense of humility and yielding.

She always consciously or unconsciously kept a distance from the colorful stage; that corner was a bit dark and often overlooked by the revelers.

While men and women flaunt new terms, information, and insights to show they are new humans, she always keeps her innermost thoughts to herself and listens quietly.

If you give a girl like this a little attention and care, she might remember your gaze for many years to come...

For this type of girl, everything she deserves feels like something she shouldn't have, but men shouldn't hurt her for that reason.

In this respect, she was more self-respecting than those pretty girls.

Pretty girls' self-esteem is often repairable; they always seek refuge with practical men, like millionaires or their bosses. Those men always know what to use as glue.

Cinderella, however, had a heart hidden deep within, more delicate and precious, one that, once shattered, could never be mended. She would drift away like a clear cloud, never to return, left to her own devices, disappearing into the far distance. She didn't need anyone to know that she would spend her entire life futilely piecing together her shattered heart…

She valued feelings and self-respect more than anything else.

When Zheng Jun exclaimed, "You are so beautiful," my heart ached.

He revealed a shocking secret—this Cinderella is beautiful, a kind of beauty that evokes pity.

Girls are not cute because they are not beautiful, but rather not cute because they are beautiful.

Thanks to improved living standards and nutrition, and the advancements in cosmetics and plastic surgery, most girls today are quite pretty. Even girls who aren't particularly pretty think they are, and even those who aren't pretty at all think they're somewhat pretty. Therefore, finding a lovely Cinderella like those in the songs is now virtually impossible, which is quite frustrating.

When the two sisters in the fairy tale cut their feet to fit into the prince's golden dancing shoes, bleeding profusely, the man saw their shameful behavior.

At that time, Cinderella was quietly working in the kitchen, and her feet were the most beautiful in the world, as evidenced by her golden dancing shoes.

...I parked the car next to a grove of trees and got out, carrying the parrot's carcass.

There were many birds in the trees, singing melodiously and playing happily.

I dug a hole in the ground with my hands, and then slowly placed the parrot's carcass into it.

Suddenly, my hand trembled violently, because I saw it slowly open its eyes. Those red eyes stared at me intently and said very clearly, "Let me go."

The title of this story is terrifying; you'll understand if you think about it carefully.

The sun is fake.

Some people are afraid to walk alone in the wilderness late at night, and suddenly see a strange, celestial object in the deep universe that occupies half the sky and shines with a light beyond the scope of Earth's science and beyond human imagination.

The sun is fake (1)

Everyone reacts to terror differently.

Some people are afraid to walk alone in the wilderness late at night, and suddenly see a strange, celestial object in the deep universe that occupies half the sky and shines with a light beyond the scope of Earth's science and beyond human imagination.

Some people aren't even afraid of murderers, but they're afraid of their own shadows.

Some people are afraid of thunder.

Some people are afraid to see blood, whether it's their own or someone else's.

Some people are afraid of receiving strange phone calls in the quiet of the night.

Some people are afraid of suddenly discovering some clue—that their spouse, with whom they have lived for many years, seems to be someone else entirely.

Some people are afraid to read horror novels.

Some people are afraid they'll go crazy.

Some people are afraid to pass by places like cemeteries or morgues, even if it's tempting to pass by buckets of gold.

Some people are afraid to look at a kaleidoscope for a long time, fearing that a huge, hairy eye might suddenly appear inside.

Some people are afraid of owls, or mice, or snakes, or spiders, or centipedes, or caterpillars.

Some people are afraid to walk alone into an empty old theater, afraid to hear the creaking and groaning of the rows of empty chairs.

Some people are afraid of sleepwalking—they sit up in the middle of the night, get out of bed woodenly, and walk out like a walking corpse, heading towards the place they are most afraid of...

Some people are afraid of mirages. A gigantic image quietly appeared in the sky, taking up half the sky, its colors strange, and within it, figures from indeterminate dynasties were slowly moving...

Some people are afraid of masks, afraid that the pale mask will suddenly grin.

Some people are afraid of lifelike wax figures.

Some people are afraid of clones. Let alone clones—imagine he's sitting alone in an empty room late at night, with a sheep staring blankly at him under the pale light, and he suddenly realizes that the sheep is a clone… he would be terrified.

Some people are afraid of hearing a baby crying in the hospital at night, or their child suddenly crying inexplicably in the middle of the night, and no matter what they do, the crying only gets worse...

What am I afraid of?

Let me think about it.

I don't seem to be afraid of any of the things mentioned above. What I fear most is a voice suddenly whispering and reminding me: "Right now, the sun above your head is fake!"

You might not immediately understand this fear. Please carefully consider the meaning behind this statement.

At first, like you, I wasn't particularly scared when I heard those words, but the more I thought about them, the more terrified I became—this process took about a week.

So, I painstakingly sorted through my fears, trying to find their root cause...

I think the reason I wasn't afraid when I first heard that sentence was because I trusted the sun so much.

No one has ever doubted the sun.

The world changes every day, but the sun remains the same. From the Qin Dynasty, the ape era, to the Cretaceous period when dinosaurs roamed freely, to the time when no animals existed and the earth was silent...

It hangs above our heads every day, and unless something goes wrong, we are the most familiar with it, yet also the most unfamiliar with it.

Who knows if it's 150 million kilometers away from Earth? Who knows if its volume is actually 1.3 million times that of Earth? Who knows if its internal temperature is 15,000,000°C?

Later, I gradually became alarmed.

This stems from humanity's deep-seated fear of eternal darkness.

I don't know what it would be like if the world were forever pitch black.

If this false luminous object above our heads can replace the sun, what kind of disaster will we face?

Watery girl

Now, I will begin to tell the story.

There was a girl named Hua Meizi. She had big eyes and long hair.

The hair was astonishing—exceptionally straight, smooth, black, and shiny, never having been contaminated or distorted by modern hair salon machines and chemicals.

She is a moist girl.

Like a drizzle imbued with poetic sentiment, like a shallow stream whose origin and destination are unknown, like a light mist that graces the scenery.

Like the highest-hanging apple on a tree, a single, unpolished word or an unprocessed glance can make her burst into bright red—a change that would excite even the sun.

The juice of an apple can be likened to her tender affection.

When you see the dew glistening on an apple and are moved, I tell you, the most endearing thing about a girl who's moist is—she cries. She cries often.

Their tears are often not about a car, but about a long hair inside it; often not about the brevity of life, but about a dog that was lost the night before.

Nowadays, most girls don't even cry anymore.

They are girls of the new era. In this fast-paced world, the intense competition has made them increasingly resilient. And resilient things are bound to have little moisture, like shrubs.

These kinds of girls are thicker, drier, more resilient, and lighter... Good heavens, these are all characteristics of being air-dried.

How could a man like a girl who never cries, a girl as dry as a match head?

Many girls look dewy. But a dewy girl doesn't just pour water on herself. No matter how much water you pour, it won't look good. Although she may look fresh, she's like a vegetable sold at the market.

The moisture in the plum blossom comes from its very nature; it is a freshness untainted by preservatives, unchilled, and never separated from its branch.

She was heartbroken.

She cried for days and nights, until all her tears had dried up.

Finally, she could no longer see anything.

We've only heard old legends—an old mother, missing her son, cried day and night until she went blind. In real life, only Hua Meizi fulfilled this legend for love.

The sun is fake (2)

Heartbreak and blindness plunged Hua Meizi into despair.

A month later, she seemed to have calmed down and went to the countryside to stay at her aunt's house.

She loves the tranquility here, the wind here, and the smell of the grass here.

Invisible Man

One day, she wandered out of the village alone and strolled along the dirt road.

Blind people are extremely sensitive to sound. She sensed that apart from the chirping of wild insects and the sound of the breeze rustling through the flowers and grass, there was no one else around.

But as she walked, she bumped into something—it must have been a person!

She stopped abruptly, took a step back, and listened intently in alarm. She couldn't see, but the other person could.

The fact that she was able to bump into this person means that he had been standing there motionless, waiting for her to approach and for her to bump into him.

Hua Meizi even suspected that this person had been holding their breath the whole time.

Hua Meizi said uneasily, "Excuse me... Is anyone there?"

It was indeed a person, a man. He said, "It's alright. Where do you want to go?"

"I'll just wander around."

"Or, I'll lead you."

"No need, I'm used to it."