There was a little girl who, when she was young, had trouble walking and could only sit at the door, watching the other children play. She felt very lonely.
One summer, the relatives from the city of the neighbor’s family came to visit and brought their child with them, a boy five years older than the girl. Because of their age, the boy quickly became friends with the local children. He played with them, going up the mountain and down to the river, getting as dark as they were, and laughing happily. What was different about him was that he didn’t curse like the others, and he noticed the little girl who couldn’t walk.
The boy was the first to place a dragonfly he caught in the girl’s palm, the first to carry her to the river, the first to tell her stories, and the first to tell her that her legs could be healed. Thinking back, he was the first, and also the last. For the first time, the girl smiled.
When the summer was about to end, the boy’s family had to leave. The girl, with tears in her eyes, came to see him off and whispered in his ear, “When I get my legs better, will you marry me?” The boy nodded.
Twenty years passed in the blink of an eye. The boy, now a man, ran a small café. He had a fiancée, and his life was ordinary and peaceful. One day, he received a phone call from a woman with a delicate voice, saying that her legs were better and that she had come to this city. For a moment, he couldn’t remember who she was. He had long forgotten the story of that summer in his childhood, the pale little girl, and the promise a child made out of kindness. But he still took her in, letting her help out at the café. He noticed that she was almost always silent.
However, he didn’t have time to care for her. His fiancée was pregnant with another man’s child. He was ashamed and furious, throwing away everything he had prepared for the wedding. He drank heavily every day, becoming violent and irritable. Even his family distanced themselves from him, and his business fell into disarray. Soon, he became seriously ill.
During this time, she stayed by his side, taking care of him, tolerating his insults while drunk, and single-handedly keeping the café from collapsing. She learned a lot, and though exhausted to the point of emaciation, there was always a spark of vitality in her eyes.
Half a year later, he finally recovered. For everything she had done for him, he could only feel gratitude. He gave her the café, but she insisted on not accepting it. He had no choice but to make her co-owner. With her help, he slowly regained his spirits, and he treated her like a close friend, confiding in her. She still listened silently.
He didn’t understand what she was thinking. He just needed a patient listener.
Years passed, and he had a few girlfriends, but none of them lasted. He couldn’t find the feeling anymore. She, too, had remained single all this time. He realized she was actually quite elegant, with an innate charm, and had no shortage of suitors. He joked that she was too picky, but she just smiled.
One day, he grew tired of his calm life and decided to travel. Before he got his passport, he officially handed over everything in the café to her. This time, she didn’t refuse, only saying that she would keep it safe for him until he came back. Life in a foreign land was hard, but during this time, he expanded his horizons and grew. All the past sadness seemed like a distant memory. He suddenly realized that, whether in sickness or health, in poverty or wealth, in good times or bad, the only one who had always been by his side was her. He wandered from place to place, but her letters always followed him, brief and gentle, yet always warm. He felt it was time to return.
When he came home, he was touched by her thoughtfulness. Whether at home or in the café, his things and his spot were still well-preserved, as if waiting for him to come back. He called out her name loudly, but no one answered.
The café had a new manager. He was told that she had passed away half a year ago due to exhaustion. Following her instructions, the manager had been keeping track of his whereabouts, sending him all the letters she left behind, managing the café for him, and tidying up his house, waiting for his return.
He was given her belongings— a dragonfly specimen and a tape recorder with her last words.
The tape only contained her voice, faint and as youthful as when she was a child: “I… marry… you…?”
After twenty-seven years, he cried out loud like a child.
No one knew that sometimes, a woman has to spend her whole life just to say one simple sentence.
