What is love?

page views:1 Publication date:2012-08-11

Insomnia again. So I got up and started scribbling down a story I heard. My writing is clumsy, please excuse my poor work.
Foreword: "Priceless Affection" has two meanings. First: Supreme, true affection cannot be bought with money! {Priceless}
Second: Worthless, true affection cannot be sold for a penny. {Priceless}
New Year's Eve 2011. This year's New Year's Eve was exceptionally lively. The city's ban on firecrackers had finally been lifted, and every household was competing to set off firecrackers and fireworks,
especially
. The deafening sound of firecrackers filled the air with festive joy. But Han Yan felt no joy at all. Exhausted from several days of work, she had no appetite for the delicious food on the table
. She hastily ate a few bites and went back to her room to lie down.
Han Yan's parents were both from the north, having moved south to this southern city. They were quite old. We've always employed a nanny, but she took leave to go home for the New Year. My mother's chronic asthma
flared up again, and she was hospitalized. My siblings and I took turns caring for her at the hospital, leaving all the household chores to her. We started a week in advance with a thorough cleaning. During the New Year holiday, housekeeping
companies were overwhelmed and couldn't find any workers, so she had to do everything herself: wiping windows, washing and cleaning blankets, sweeping the house, cleaning the kitchen, and doing grocery shopping. Northerners have a tradition of preparing various kinds of noodles and other foods before the New Year, such as making jujube flower cakes, steamed buns, and fried dough sticks. To make my mother happy, she did everything without missing a beat, keeping herself very busy. Today, she was busy frying, stir-frying, and boiling to prepare a sumptuous New Year's Eve dinner
. She's exhausted, and now, lying in bed, she's dizzy and disoriented.
When her niece-in-law came to report, "Auntie, Grandma is dying," she didn't understand at first. She was stunned
for a moment before reacting, then rushed frantically to her mother's room. Reaching her mother's bedside, she cried out in heart-wrenching sobs, "Mom...Mom..." Her mother could no longer hear her calls and
passed away amidst the joyous sounds of firecrackers.
This sudden blow almost broke Han Yan, but she couldn't give up. There were still so many things waiting for her: arranging the funeral, keeping vigil, and taking care of relatives and friends from all directions.
She had always lived with her parents, the "head of the household" in her siblings' eyes; they always referred to themselves as guests. If she didn't take care of them, who would? Dragging her extremely exhausted body, she entered another round of busy work: shopping
, cooking, preparing meals—could she neglect the needs of so many people? Bearing immense grief and utter exhaustion, she persevered, unaware that unexpected blows were yet to come
.

The father, a high-ranking official, lived in a large, beautiful house in the city center with a garden, and his income was considerable. His mother usually
managed the household and was quite influential. After she left, his father became somewhat mentally unstable. Already quiet and uninvolved, he became even more withdrawn. His older brother and sister-in-law, who always considered themselves guests, started eyeing his house. His other sisters, worried that Hanyan
would monopolize the family property, all rushed to move in. They demanded Hanyan move out, escalating the conflict until it escalated into a physical fight. His brother and nephew both got involved. This time,
Hanyan finally collapsed and could finally rest. She had fractured her sternum and was forced to "rest," a condition that lasted for over half a month.
Just as her injuries were beginning to heal, even greater pain followed. Her elderly father had fractured his spine, limiting his mobility and requiring her brother's care. Taking advantage of their father's injury, her brother made all sorts of demands, and
under his pressure, the father reluctantly agreed to his unreasonable request that Hanyan move out. When Hanyan heard her father nod in agreement, it was like a bolt from the blue, leaving her feeling dizzy and disoriented. What
hurts most in the world? Betrayal by family! Heartache and despair overwhelmed her… At that moment, her heart was dead. She stood there blankly for a full half hour. As dusk fell, Hanyan walked down the street,
not even knowing how she had left home, nor where she was going. Her wide eyes were devoid of tears—she wanted to cry but couldn't. But the matter didn't end there. They claimed that Hanyan wasn't their biological daughter
. This blow was devastating; she couldn't bear this excruciating pain—whether their claims were true or not, they were more painful than a knife twisting in her heart! Was it true? Tragic! —Forty-odd years have passed, and she
doesn't even know where her true blood relatives are. Conversely, it's tragic! To say such things for money, disregarding family ties, is even more chilling.
What's the point of fighting? You can't take it to the grave! Alas… Han Yan's heart was now empty. The only option was to disappear, to pretend she had no family forever! To let them also consider her dead! She threw away her phone card, cut off
contact with everyone she knew, and randomly chose a remote, unknown county town, completely isolating herself and living a secluded life.
Then, exhausted, she fell ill, her whole body swollen. Ironically, she was happy, feeling finally free, finally able to be free. In her illness, to kill time and exhaust herself, she
wouldn't eat until she
was starving, wouldn't sleep until she was completely exhausted, spending all day aimlessly browsing the internet, sometimes lazily chatting a few words. Only then did she feel a sense of belonging to humanity.
At this time, she was repulsive! He brought a gloomy feeling to his chat partners. While gloomy weather is unpleasant, it can at least inspire poets.
There are countless ancient poems that use gloomy weather to evoke melancholy, such as: "The wutong tree, accompanied by fine rain, at dusk, drop by drop, how can a single word 'sorrow' suffice?" "The world is fickle, human relationships are cruel, rain sends dusk, flowers easily
fall." "Yesterday the wind was sparse and the rain was heavy, a deep sleep could not dispel the lingering effects of wine." Or: "During the Qingming Festival, the rain falls in torrents, travelers on the road are heartbroken." "Free-flying flowers are light as dreams, fine rain from the sky seeps into sorrow." "The drizzle on the street is
as soft as butter, the grass looks green from afar but is barely visible up close." ...and so on, countless examples. Although they describe melancholy, they often draw the reader into a romantic atmosphere. However, a gloomy mood only brings oppression, and no one
likes it. Therefore, few people were willing to chat with Hanyan. She was immersed in this loneliness, waiting for the 'day' to come.
But then, a man appeared, seemingly different from the others. He didn't look down on her; instead, he patiently talked to her time and time again, his words gentle and polite. Though few in number, his words
were
full of wisdom and care. Unconsciously, they seemed to become friends. She trusted him, feeling for the first time like she had family, and her nose tingled with tears.
Finally, she had found someone to confide in, opening her heart to someone for the first time, revealing her family troubles, and shedding tears she hadn't shed in so long. Hanyan's cold heart slowly began to
warm. He always patiently comforted her, his words rich and humorous. Once, when she was crying, he video-called her, his tone full
of tenderness, both domineering and witty: "You can cry for five more minutes, but you're not allowed to cry anymore. Crying will ruin your health." This made her laugh through her tears, then her nose tingled again, and the feelings of sadness and grievance overwhelmed her
, causing her to burst into tears. I simply turned off the computer and phone and cried my heart out, a cry that lasted for nearly two hours. The gloom in my heart dissipated considerably, and I felt much better.

Later, she frequently visited his online space, carefully reading and savoring every word he wrote, from his blog posts to his status updates. His writing was already quite good, his thinking quick, his insights unique
, and his language
sharp; she increasingly felt he was exceptionally talented. After a period of communication, she found him wise, humorous, approachable, and aloof… she admired him greatly. Hanyan had always been a literature enthusiast,
fond of romance
, and driven by pure emotion, so during their conversations, she deliberately avoided certain topics, anything related to material conditions. She
didn't want
to know about his family, children, work, or income. For a long time, she didn't even know his name; she simply cherished this unconditional affection. She believed that love should be supreme and pure, without any selfish
motives, and
he only needed to reciprocate this feeling, regardless of form or outcome, focusing only on the process. She immersed herself in the atmosphere she created. She knew he liked it this way too. They got along
very well, smiles
returned to her face, she gradually became more cheerful, and her health improved. She secretly rejoiced at the fairness of fate, grateful that heaven had been kind to her, and almost forgot the
excruciating
pain in her heart.
Like a drowning person suddenly grasping at a straw, this straw was undoubtedly a lifeline, its significance self-evident.
But suddenly, he disappeared from the internet. She left him messages in the chat window, but received no reply. She left messages on his social media profile, still no response. Then she called him, and he
said
he was in a meeting, promising to call back later. She waited anxiously, her phone never leaving her hand, for two days straight. Each ring brought more disappointment. She finally abandoned her reserve and wrote
emotionally charged
text messages, hoping to move him with beautiful words and sincere feelings. She received only one: "Busy, please forgive me." The rest went unanswered, without a single word
. She didn't
understand what had happened. She didn't understand why people had to be so cruel. She didn't understand why he ignored the insults he had inflicted on her. She didn't understand why true feelings were so worthless. Every
few days,
she would text him, asking why she didn't understand these things. She hoped that one day she would receive even a few words of reply, hoping for an explanation, hoping for his compassion, hoping that he
would treat her
as an ordinary friend, giving her a polite reply, hoping to receive at least some respect, hoping that he wouldn't trample on her dignity. Time passed day by day, minute by minute, second by second
,
but nothing came. Was she so indifferent? Was she so unworthy to give her a single word? Having
just faced the challenge of family ties, was she now facing the challenge of "xx"? Coincidentally, in her life, a betrayal of friendship also occurred at the same time.
This series of emotional challenges was enough to destroy anyone! How could she bear it? Was
true feeling so worthless? She asked the heavens: ???
My only remaining source of affection—my elderly father—also passed away a year and a half after my mother. The cold, desolate world was now devoid of its bonds.

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