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墨書 Inktalez
She learned to make my favorite braised spare ribs, ignoring the greasy smoke and the heat in the kitchen. She saved every penny to buy me the best paints and canvases. She endured menstrual pain to work overtime at the company, just to earn a little extra pay. I knew that everything she did was for me. I felt touched, but more than that, I felt annoyed. I thought that if Li Ying didn't love me so much, I would like her more.
Finally, I met Meng Shasha. She admired my paintings as if she worshipped me like a hero. She helped me regain my confidence and rediscover a long-lost passion. I began to go out frequently to sketch, sometimes spending the entire day painting. I no longer hated pear blossoms because I had found my Muse.
Li Ying sensed something and began to guard against me. She no longer let me go out or meet Meng Shasha. She scrolled through the messages on my phone, pressing me for the story behind my Muse. Unable to endure it any longer, I finally exploded. I proposed divorce to Li Ying.
She cried and begged me not to leave her. She said she had sacrificed so much for me, and what would she do if I left? I steeled myself and said, "You have given so much over the years; I have been repaying you." "I earned your tuition, cooked for you, and almost got stabbed because of you..." "Li Ying, we are even." "Let me go."
Li Ying ultimately let me go.
As I wished, we got divorced.
I rushed towards Meng Shasha and was with her.
After meeting with Master Qiu Wen, my career soared once again.
I held an art exhibition in Paris and received countless praises.
I painted many portraits of Meng Shasha and told her that she was my Muse, my one true love.
I bought her the most expensive wedding dress in the world and held the grandest wedding...
I had everything a man could desire.
As time passed, I gradually discovered the problem.
Meng Shasha did not love me.
What she loved was money.
I don't know when I started to realize this.
Perhaps it was when she sent messages to other men behind my back in the middle of the night.
Or perhaps it was when she threw a tantrum at me in the store for not buying her a dress she liked.
Or maybe it was when she got pregnant, and I rushed to the hospital, only for her to call me an idiot for not wearing enough clothes.
In that moment, I suddenly thought of Li Ying.
I remembered many details that she had overlooked—
I remembered her waiting for me in the heavy snow, bringing me a down jacket.
I remembered her making chicken soup for me, getting her arm burned by the oil splatter.
I remembered her enduring menstrual pain,
While I was tidying up the house, squatting on the floor to wipe the tiles, I suddenly realized that I love Li Ying. The person I truly love is Li Ying. I began to frequently dream about our past. I dreamt of the first time I saw her; she was wearing a faded school uniform, sitting in the last row of the classroom. No one wanted to be friends with her because she was poor, dressed in rags, and carried a tattered burlap sack. But I didn't care.
I was the most unique student in school; I didn't love studying, I only loved drawing. So while others discriminated against her, I did not. I dreamt that we both got into college—she in the south and I in the north. We started a long-distance relationship. We were very frugal and couldn't bear to make phone calls, so we wrote letters instead, sometimes managing to write several in a single day. I counted the days waiting for her letters; sometimes when they didn’t arrive, I would ride my bicycle to the post office to look for her.
I dreamt that we graduated from college. I gave up the job my family had arranged for me and resolutely went to Shanghai. We squeezed into a small rented room, worrying about making ends meet but living happily nonetheless. Suddenly, I understood what I had missed. I missed my true love.
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