Seeking Love in the Fog (short story by lyhwts)

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

There's a river in front of my house, not very wide, but very long. The elders say no one has ever found its source or traced its end. My childhood memories are filled with its graceful, winding form and the quiet, gentle flow of its waters. If nurturing countless hardworking farmers along its banks is a great achievement,
then we must not forget the two willow trees on the west bank of our village. When I was old enough to remember, the two willows had already grown into lush, verdant trees, growing side by side, yet independent, within a distance of less than five meters. I
think of these two willows not only because they hold nearly twenty years of memories for me, but also because a girl's name contains the character for willow—her name was Manliu. We weren't exactly childhood sweethearts, nor were we childhood friends. Two lives intertwined unintentionally, and then, in the dusty years of my life, seemingly long past, they have always stood in my mind like those two willow trees, silent and unseen, their branches spreading, weighing heavily on my heart.
The willow trees must have been the lifelong symbol her parents decided to carve for her after seeing those two willow trees. Her house was on the opposite bank of the river from our village, standing there alone, facing those two willow trees across the water. On gloomy days with light rain, it always evoked a desolate beauty in me, like a still life painting sprinkled with a deep gray somber tone.
I don't know why her family didn't live with us in the community, but chose to settle in a secluded place, separated by a river, as if by another world. Like her family, she had virtually no interaction with the people in our village, living their own lives and following their own routines. In the summer, when I climbed to the top of the willow tree to raid bird nests, I could see her yard, full of chickens, ducks, geese, and clothes drying in the sun.
Occasionally, I would see her coming out to feed the chickens, ducks, and geese. I would slide down from the tree, pick up small clods of mud, climb back up, and mischievously throw them far into her yard. They would hit things with a loud "bang," followed by the cacophony of chickens flying, ducks squawking, and geese squawking. She would yell and run into the house. I would hurriedly climb down the tree and run away, vaguely hearing her father or mother shouting and cursing behind me.
In the eyes of the children in our village, she was like her parents—a monster, unapproachable, only an object of ridicule and pranks.
Childhood always slips away quietly amidst reluctance and anticipation of growing up. She remained as unfamiliar to me as ever. It wasn't until I entered junior high school, when she transferred from a very dilapidated elementary school across the river to the same school as me, that the distance between us narrowed. Unfortunately, she couldn't escape being an outcast among the children in our village. Every day after school, my five best friends and I, all in the same grade, would patiently wait for her at the school gate to walk home together. On the way, we'd constantly ridicule her and her family, but she would just walk on silently with her head down. Luckily, we weren't in the same class; otherwise, her school hours would probably have been the time we spent spitting on her.
One day, as we were teasing her on the way home from school, Dajun suddenly shouted,
"I know, her grandfather is a traitor, her father is a thief, she won't be a good person when she grows up!" We immediately joined Dajun in cheering, "Oh! Oh!" She stopped and stood there, saying, "You're talking nonsense!"
Although her voice was soft, we all heard her clearly. We were all stunned; we never expected her to talk back, and to dare say Dajun was talking nonsense. The first person on the sex forum, Dajun, roared, "Say what the hell you said again, or I'll skin you alive!" She kept her head down, her voice soft and trembling, but she still managed to squeeze out those three words: "You're talking nonsense."
Dajun suddenly rushed forward to gang rape her, but just as he was about to strike, he stopped and said, "A good man doesn't fight with a woman, especially not a stupid bitch like you." He turned and walked towards us. We thought that was the end of it, and were about to laugh at Dajun's incompetence when he quickly picked up a fist-sized brick from the ground and threw it hard at her. The brick hit her in the stomach and fell to the ground with a thud. She cried out "Ah!" and squatted down, clutching her stomach. Dajun raised his hand above his head and waved it triumphantly. We applauded and cheered for Dajun, shouting "Oh! Oh!"
Then
, Agua, Siyan, Wulai, and a few others picked up bricks and threw them at her. She covered her head and didn't cry out. Dajun said, "Danzi, look how tough she is. Go ahead and smash her with a big one, I bet this little bitch won't cry.
" I replied, "No problem!" and bent down to find a big one to smash. As I picked up a brick and prepared to stand up, I glanced at her and saw her looking at me with tears welling in her eyes, terrified. I involuntarily paused. Everyone was still cheering, waiting to see my downfall. As I straightened up, countless thoughts flashed through my mind. I raised my hand, but I couldn't muster the strength to throw the brick.
Dajun yelled the loudest, "Danzi, if you don't smash it, you're a coward, you bastard! Don't be a coward!" Guazi and the other two were also making a ruckus, but I lowered my hand. Seeing me lower my hand, Dajun said, "Danzi, you're a fucking coward, just like your dad!" I threw down the brick, turned around, and punched Dajun with all my might, hitting him squarely in the nose. Blood gushed from his nose, and Dajun howled, "Mommy! Mommy!"
I said fiercely to him, "If you talk bad about my dad again, I'll break your legs!" Scratcher, Four-Eyes, and the Rascal stood there dumbfounded, watching the sudden turn of events. I glanced at them, brushed the mud off my backpack, and said to Scratcher and Four-Eyes, "Keep an eye on Dajun. If he says anything else, come tell me." I turned and left.
Four-Eyes and the Rascal helped Dajun up, while Scratcher used the cover of his backpack to wipe the blood from his nose. Dajun, seeing me walk a distance, mumbled, "Bullet, you fucking wait, I'll get my revenge." I didn't turn back, coldly replying, "I'll be waiting for you." "I knew he couldn't beat me, and he couldn't do anything to me either.
The four of them slowly harassed me from behind. After a while, I felt like someone was following me. I turned around and saw that girl had been following me for about 10 meters with her head down. When I stopped, she stopped too. I was furious: 'Don't follow me! Don't think I'm not hitting you to protect you; I'm afraid I'll kill you and go to jail!'
Then I continued on my way. She stood there for a few minutes, but she still followed me. I turned around and yelled, 'You idiot, don't follow me! Just looking at you makes me sick. Your stupid hairstyle, that weird sweater, all red and green, makes you look like a monster. If you follow me again, I'll kill you.'" After cursing, I turned around angrily and walked quickly forward. Unexpectedly, she jogged after me. Damn it, speechless, what bad luck! I went my way, she went hers. When we reached the willow tree, I turned left without stopping and headed home. She continued walking for about 30 meters, crossing the wooden bridge ahead to go home.
Later, Dajun, Siyan, Wulai, and Guazi Ge never wanted to play with me again, and I was all alone.
No, wait, there was always a tail following me. Sometimes, to shake her off, I either had to run or wait until everyone had left after school, but she would always appear not far from me, sometimes close, sometimes far. I
was helpless; she was like a leech. Let her go, let her do whatever she wants. For a long time, I... And so things remained the same.
The voices cursing and mocking her decreased, at least I heard them less and less. I understood; she followed me to avoid being bullied. Let her borrow my power, even if it ruins her glorious image. Four-Eyes and the others looked at me differently now; there was no turning back.
That time it rained, and I didn't bring an umbrella. As soon as school was over, I prepared to run home. She followed me, panting, with an oil-paper umbrella, trying her best to shield me. I ignored her, pretending not to know her. When we left the school gate, Da Jun and his friends were buying snacks at the convenience store. Seeing us like this, he let out a strange yell, pointing at me with a smirk and saying, "Haha, two stinky bitches are soaked!" His gang of thugs who depended on him for food and drink immediately started yelling. I glared fiercely at Da Jun, scaring him so much his face turned ashen.
I walked towards a secluded spot, until I reached a deserted place. I stopped, and she stopped too. I turned around and coldly said to her, "Please, stop following me, okay?" She kept her head down, silent. I wondered if she had a condition where she kept her head down and kept quiet. I turned to leave, but she still followed me.
My anger surged from my feet to my head. I thought about how she was the main reason Dajun and the others stopped hanging out with me, leaving me all alone, and she still clung to me. I lost my patience! I turned around and slapped her hard across the face.
She cried out and slipped to the ground with a thud. Raindrops fell on her pale face, making the four finger marks look so glaring. The oil-paper umbrella rolled to the side, several branches broken. My heart was instantly filled with pity. Thinking about my situation, wasn't it the same situation she had been in? Were we now somewhat in the same boat? A wave of sadness washed over me, and I guiltily reached out to help her up.
She looked at me with fear. I extended my hand to her again, and she slowly, gently placed her hand in mine. Her fingers were slender and cool, like ice cubes in ice water, yet soft and smooth, like a piece of moist tofu. I gripped her hand tightly and, with a sudden pull, half-lifted, half-dragged her up. She lowered her head, not daring to look at me, standing silently in front of my nose.
I said to her from the bottom of my heart, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She remained silent. I used my fingers to lift her chin, and saw that her eyes were full of tears, just as terrified as when I was about to hit her with a brick. For the first time, I looked closely at her face: thin, long eyebrows, large eyes with tears welling up, single eyelids, a small, pointed nose, and thin, pale red lips. Her hair, wet from the rain, clung to her forehead, raindrops pattering down her strands.
She was so beautiful. After all these years of teasing each other, this was the first time I'd noticed how beautiful she was, like a pear blossom in the rain, delicate and alluring.
I couldn't resist kissing her. She didn't move, letting my lips meet hers. Her lips were cool and soft like fingers. I felt her tremble for a moment when I kissed her, like a startled rabbit, or a helpless lamb.
A gust of wind blew by, and I shivered, snapping me out of my reverie. I quickly grabbed her oil-paper umbrella to shield us both from the rain. Her left ankle was slightly twisted from her fall, so I had to support her arm as we slowly walked back together. Listening to her soft breathing was like listening to the gentle flow of a river, calm and quiet.
That day, I walked her across the bridge, and then she stood there watching me walk back, waiting until I reached the willow tree, turned around, and then she limped back.
Later, we still walked home together after school, me in front and her behind, as if nothing had happened. Only at night, I would stand under the willow tree, watching her cross the bridge, watching her return home, and then I would go home. In
my final year of junior high, schoolwork became busier, and I often didn't get home until after 9 PM after evening self-study. We still walked a few meters apart, one in front of the other, as before.
When we reached the willow tree, I would wait for her to get home. We barely spoke, like very understanding friends, neither saying goodnight nor goodbye. Time passed quickly. The willow leaves began to fall again, the weather gradually turned cold, and the river seemed to be hibernating. In early November, our school held a monthly exam. I didn't do well, and I caught a cold, so I skipped evening self-study that day and went home early. She didn't know I was home early, and had to walk home alone after evening self-study.
Around 10 PM, I was always anxious, wondering if she was afraid to walk home alone at night, if something might happen to her. Unable to hold it any longer, I threw on a coat, told my dad I needed to use the restroom, and went to wait for her under the willow tree. After waiting for a while, I saw a figure rushing towards me, panting heavily.
I popped out from behind the tree, startling her so much she jumped and crouched down. I whispered, "Manliu," and
the figure burst into tears. I quickly hugged her and asked what was wrong. Before she could answer, another dark figure rushed towards us. Seeing the two people embracing, it froze, then turned and tried to run.
I shouted, "Who goes there? Stop!" The figure didn't answer, running wildly and disappearing into the fields.
I didn't chase after her. I held Manliu and gently asked, "What's wrong, Manliu? Don't cry. Tell your brother, and I'll stand up for you." Manliu cried for a while before saying, "Brother Danzi, someone is bullying me." I thought, Dajun and the others have been bullying her for a long time, and she's never cried like this before. What's wrong with her today? Later, Manliu said intermittently that after Dajun finished evening self-study, he saw her alone and followed her.
She was scared, so she ran all the way to that deserted section of road, where Dajun caught up with her and hugged her, saying he wanted her. When I heard this, my blood boiled, and I was about to break free from her to confront Dajun. She said, "Brother Danzi, don't go. His father is the village chief. You don't have any leverage over him, and besides, who do you think I am to go looking for him?" Hearing her say that, I had no choice but to hug her tightly and say, "It's my fault. I didn't tell you I was coming back early today. Be good, I'm sorry."
She hugged me tightly too, buried her head in my chest, and cried for a while before slowly calming down. I held her close, leaning against the willow tree to the south, wrapping her in my coat. We held each other quietly, listening to the willows whisper secrets and the fish gurgling in the river.
After a while, she stirred in my arms. I loosened my grip, and she slightly raised her head, her breath warm against my chin. I could feel her large eyes blinking as she stared at me. Even in the darkness, I felt embarrassed by her gaze, and she blushed, asking, "What's wrong?" She whispered, "Brother Danzi, I love you, just like this short willow loves that tall willow."
I smiled and said, "How do you know the short willow loves the tall willow?" She said, "Because the short willow always stretches its branches towards the tall one, trying to hold its hand." I smiled, then held her tighter, feeling her warm body and soft flesh—so gentle and boneless, more alluring than the river beside us, more charming than the two willows. I breathed softly and said, "Manliu, I love you too, you know?" She hummed in agreement.
We didn't get home until very late that night, and from then on, I never left her alone on a dark road again. We were deeply in love but dared not confess our feelings. We studied hard while dreaming of a happy future
. After the college entrance exam, we soon received acceptance letters from the best high school in the county. Just when we were overjoyed, tragedy struck. Her mother was diagnosed with diabetes, and the medical expenses greedily drained their savings like a black hole. In less than a month, the money was almost gone, and she had to be discharged and return home for long-term conservative treatment. During the time she was at the hospital with her mother, I felt like an empty shell, my heart completely devoted to her. Without her, even the brightest sunshine seemed meaningless.
The day she returned, we met under the willow tree. She had lost a lot of weight, and her eyes were dark-circled. I hugged her tightly, and she began to sob softly. When we parted, she told me she wasn't going to continue high school; she wanted to go out and earn money to pay for her mother's treatment. I tried my best to persuade her not to drop out of school, but faced with reality, I was powerless. Even the most reasonable words sounded so pale and weak.
The night she went out to work, we talked a lot, including about her family's past and our future. She said her family originally lived in a village, but during the Cultural Revolution, it was discovered that her grandfather had been a fortress chief during the Japanese occupation. Then the whole family was subjected to public criticism, and her grandparents were tortured to death. They had no outlet for their anger. To make matters worse, shortly after her grandparents' death, her father caught Dajun's father, our village chief, stealing grain from the granary. The village chief
was the chairman of the criticism meeting, and the two got into a fight. In the end, the village chief falsely accused her father of doing it, and her family was driven out of the village while her father was half-dead from the criticism, and they moved to the other side of the river. Her mother is sick, the family has no money, and no one in the village cares about her. Going out is the only way to solve their immediate problem.
I remained silent, only holding her hand before she left and saying, "I'll wait for you to come back." She nodded firmly and said, "I won't let you down!"
The first semester of my first year of high school was spent struggling with endless longing and waiting for her. If it weren't for a letter that offered some solace, I think I would have dropped my schoolbag and rushed to where she was. When we met again during the Spring Festival, she was no longer the student she used to be. She was dressed smartly and beautifully, with light makeup. Looking at the even more beautiful Manliu before me, my heart was filled with joy. I hugged her tightly and kissed her again and again, and she hugged me back and kissed me passionately. We poured out our hearts to each other in our passionate kisses, and tears welled up in our eyes as we embraced.

After a while of tender kissing, I took her hand and walked north along the riverbank. Soon, the village was far behind us. Bathed in the warm winter sun, we chattered like two little birds. She told me about the wonders of the outside world, and I told her about the fun things that happened at school. Before we knew it, we had walked a very, very far. I turned around and looked at her closely. I saw the sunlight painting golden rainbows on her hair, and she looked like a beautiful angel. She smiled and gazed at me intently, so captivating.
I couldn't resist kissing her lips again. They were so soft, no longer cold. I gently parted her lips with the tip of my tongue, licking her white teeth. She tilted her head back, her breath sweet as orchids, responding to my passionate kiss. When my tongue touched hers, her body trembled, letting my tongue roam freely in her mouth. I sometimes entwined my tongue with hers, sometimes lightly touched her teeth, and soon our breathing quickened. I quickly released her, looking at her rosy cheeks, like ripe apples.
Her eyes were full of tenderness, gazing at me half-dreamingly, as if leading me into a deep abyss. She then said something that startled me: "Brother Danzi, I want to give myself to you." I immediately calmed down and said to her,
"This, this, isn't that inappropriate? We're still young..." She interrupted me, saying, "It's okay, I'll be yours sooner or later. My heart has already been yours, and now my body will be yours too." Then, without waiting for my reply, she pressed her hot lips to mine, hooking her arms around my neck to prevent me from escaping. My mind was in turmoil; on one hand, primal desire screamed for me to rush forward, while on the other hand, reason told me I couldn't do this, I had to calm down.
Seeing that I didn't move, she softly asked, "Brother, don't you love me?" "Yes." "If you love me, then come and take me!"
Then, taking advantage of my momentary lapse in attention, she tripped me and knocked me down onto the grass by the river. My passion was instantly ignited, and reason vanished without a trace. I clung tightly to her, who was pressing down on me, my erect penis pressing hard against her abdomen. She kissed me wildly, her tongue swirling unrestrainedly in my mouth, completely unlike the gentle and delicate girl I remembered. What was wrong with her? The heat of desire had overwhelmed my thoughts. I responded to her passionate kisses with even greater intensity, our tongues entwined, unwilling to let go.
We kissed and desperately pressed our bodies together, as if trying to squeeze ourselves into each other's bodies. My hands groped up and down her body, but I didn't know what I was looking for. Later, I could only hold her buttocks tightly and press her abdomen down hard, which always gave me a very pleasurable feeling. A sensation washed over me. She straightened up, brushed a strand of hair back, and her flushed face revealed the heat of her desire.
I placed my hands on her waist, feeling its softness and suppleness, like the hands of that short, willowy tree. I freed one hand and slipped it inside her shirt. Her skin was so smooth, the same hazy feeling I'd had in countless erotic dreams—delicate, warm, and youthfully elastic.
My trembling hand slowly traced its way up her waist, finally reaching her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra today. I didn't care. When my hands grasped her full breasts, my heart pounded, and I swallowed involuntarily. My hands trembled uncontrollably; I could feel her heart beating even faster than mine.
Inexperienced, my hands just stiffly touched her breasts, frozen in place, afraid to move.
She bent down, her hands rubbing against the outside of my clothes, and whispered in my ear,
"Brother Danzi, don't be afraid, Manliu isn't afraid of pain." "I gently kneaded her breasts, forgetting the memory of my mother breastfeeding me. Now, these living, breathing female breasts in my hands awakened a burning desire within me, like molten lava churning restlessly, yet with no outlet. I could only rely on careful caresses and hungry fantasies to recall fragments of my erotic dreams, but without any answer.
Instinctively, I quickened the kneading of her breasts with both hands, and her breathing soon became rapid. I gently asked her if it felt good, and she nodded. I then increased the pressure slightly, kneading her breasts with my hands, feeling..." Those incredibly elastic and smooth breasts were truly a wonder; my little penis below grew even harder, pressing against her lower abdomen.
She leaned down on me, pinning my hands to her breasts, which soon became tingly. I pulled my hands away and stroked her back, which felt smooth and slippery. She brought her mouth to kiss me again, and I opened my mouth, inviting her tongue to playfully tease the base of her tongue. A lot of saliva appeared in her mouth, flowing down into mine, which I could only accept. The taste of her breath was faint. There was a faint, almost imperceptible fragrance.
After idly caressing her back for a while, my hand slipped down her waist and into her pants. Her waistband was loose; it fit one hand perfectly, but two hands were too tight. So I had to keep my left hand on her back, continuing to caress her, while my right hand kneaded her buttocks through her underwear. Her buttocks were moving slightly forward and sliding,
as if rubbing against something. I desperately tried to control my trembling hands, my mouth constantly kissing her lips, and boldly parted the edge of her underwear, touching many soft pubic hairs. Her skin was as smooth as mine. I couldn't reach anything further.
I rolled over and pinned her beneath me, letting her hands slip inside my clothes. Her hands trembled violently. I slowly slipped my hands inside her clothes and gently stroked her, and she gradually calmed down. Her fingertips lightly traced my skin, stimulating the nerves in my back. I lowered myself onto her, my left arm reaching around her from below to hold her tightly, while my right hand continued to stroke her waist. I whispered to her, "Liu, you're so beautiful. You make me lose control. I love you so much."
Her eyes welled up with tears as she said, "Brother, I love you too. I often cry thinking of you. I want to give myself to you properly." Then she hugged me, her hands sliding down to my waist and holding me tightly. My penis was so hard and hot, I wanted to find a place to go inside, but I couldn't find a suitable place, so I pressed it against her thigh, feeling a slight pleasure from the pressure. My right hand went into her pants, past that dark forest, and down, I felt her there was a wet, steaming wetness. As soon as my hand touched her, her waist trembled, and she let out a deep "hmm".
My hand slid up and down her stream, I felt her wetness increasing, flowing out in gushes, and her mouth opened wider and wider, her breathing rapid and rough. Looking at her, my penis was painfully hard. So I pulled my left hand out and used both hands to help her pull down her pants. She kept her eyes closed, and lifted her buttocks slightly. I pulled her pants down to her ankles. I
didn't dare look at her private parts, and hurriedly pulled my hard, red, and hot penis out of her pants . I pee in front of her, panting, and then pressed myself against her. My penis slid back and forth on the wet spot between her thighs, feeling so warm and moist, my body trembling uncontrollably. I adjusted my penis, not knowing where to put it, just randomly moving it around her vulva. She didn't say a word, still with her eyes closed, her face flushed, moaning softly.
I was sweating profusely, but I couldn't find that intense pleasure, and I didn't know what I was doing wrong, I
just kept sliding my penis around her vulva, following her wetness. She occasionally twisted her waist, as if searching for something.
In my haphazard way, the head of my penis touched a soft spot, a slightly concave area, the wettest place.
I gently pushed forward, but it wouldn't go in, and her mouth opened even wider. I asked Manliu if it hurt, and she shook her head. I pushed forward again, and she cried out, "Brother Danzi, it hurts a little." I stroked her head tenderly and said, "Let it go then, brother can't bear to see you hurt." She hugged my head tightly, pressed her lips to my ear, and said, "Manliu isn't afraid of pain, today Manliu must become brother's."
Hearing her resolute tone, I was so moved I almost cried, and I held her tightly, unwilling to move. She playfully twisted her waist slightly and said, "Silly brother, hurry up, it's getting dark!" I thrust forward, feeling my penis break through the barrier and squeeze into a warm, moist, tightly enveloping, wonderful world. She let out a loud "Ah!" and tears welled up.
I kissed her eyes and said softly, "It's my fault, I hurt you, I'll come out now."
She held back her tears and said, "No, Brother Danzi, it doesn't hurt." I moved gently a couple of times, the pleasure in my glans growing stronger with each thrust, like a volcano about to erupt. Ignoring her feelings, I desperately pushed my penis deep into her, and a thick stream of semen shot into her life gate.
Then we just stayed like that, holding each other, motionless in the sunlight. After a long time, Liu'er kissed my face and said, "Brother, were you happy?" I nodded. Tears welled up in her eyes again, and she choked out, "From now on, Liu'er's heart and body belong to her brother." I nodded firmly.
As the sun was about to set, we tidied our clothes, and looking at the scattered red petals on the grass beneath her, I made an unwavering decision: I would marry her. We walked back hand in hand, facing the sun. The blood-red sunset stretched our shadows long and long, longer than the river beside us, and tighter than the two willow trees ahead. For
the next few days, she stayed home to take care of her mother. After the New Year, she left very early. By the time I found out, she had already been gone for two days. During
the second semester of my first year of high school, I wrote her many letters, but she never replied. I stubbornly believed she was too busy to write back. When I returned home for summer vacation after my first year of high school, I heard that she had become a prostitute. This news was brought back by Dajun from outside. I didn't believe it and went to her house to ask, but no one was home. I was so heartbroken. Caught between hope and despair, I was trapped in a whirlpool of longing. I decided to pack my bags and go find her, only to discover I didn't even have her work address.
But I kept waiting for her to come back, to have her tell me herself that Dajun was lying, that she was still my pure and innocent Liu'er.
And so I waited and waited, until my senior year of high school, when Dajun brought news from outside that Manliu's mother had died, her father was working alone in Hainan, and she, having contracted an STD from prostitution and drug use, had no money for treatment and had also passed away.
Hearing this news, I stood rooted to the spot by the willow tree, watching them lean on each other. I couldn't believe Liu'er would do this. I believed she would come back.
I would wait for her return here by the willow tree...
[The End]

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Seeking Love in the Fog (short story by lyhwts)

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