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墨書 Inktalez
We naturally "got together," and looking back now, it seems ridiculous—two strangers connected by the internet, making heartfelt promises in the dead of night, believing in a lifetime together, engaging in cold wars and sweet nothings, eventually reaching the point of wanting to meet in person.
At that time, I was fourteen and living in two different counties from him. I took advantage of a weekend to ask my mother for ten yuan under the pretense of visiting a friend. I boarded a bus that cost two yuan and traveled from my county to his. By the time I found the agreed-upon place following his directions, it was already late at night. Dozens of stalls were lit with bulbs, their tables shining like stars in the darkness.
He wasn't good-looking, with dyed blonde hair and a height not taller than mine. His clothing was unremarkable, and although he was much older than me, I felt disappointed in him while lacking confidence in myself. I let him take my hand and led me to a square table where we ordered a grilled fish.
It was my first time eating barbecue. Before that, I had never experienced such luxury. My family of three lived in a dilapidated courtyard, barely able to afford salt, let alone meat, which we could only have every ten days or so. Barbecue—at that time—felt like an extravagant and thrilling affair.
Because of that grilled fish, I lost what I thought would be my "first time." I hadn’t showered beforehand and didn’t understand the need for protection; the experience was filled with tearing pain. I didn’t know that my body had three openings—two for waste and one for life’s passage. I only thought he had penetrated where I urinate, which felt very strange.
Afterward, he checked the sheets for blood and coldly got up. "So you’re not a virgin," he remarked.
I feared disappointing him; disappointing others was my greatest fear. So I said, "I really am a virgin."
Only then did he go to the bathroom to wash up while I lay despondently in the cheap hotel room, unsure of what I was doing there or why I had come. What had happened had already happened; there was nothing to regret.
At that moment, I didn’t realize that night would cast a lifelong shadow over me. Looking back now, my heart aches painfully as if wishing to turn back time and slap myself hard. Some things don’t seem significant when they happen but become deep scars over time, flaunting their pain as they transform into permanent reminders of adulthood.
I grew up carrying countless pains until I could no longer bear them or stand up again—like a traveler’s skeletal remains buried beneath sand and dust in an endless desert.
The consequences of that night arrived a week later. On Saturday, wrapped tightly in my blanket, I woke up groggily to bright sunlight outside. I heard my mother speaking on the phone from the yard: "My daughter is still young; please let her go. She’s just a student and should focus on her studies..."
I immediately stiffened all over; what followed was an avalanche of insults and blows. After that incident, I cut off all contact with him without feeling any sadness. In retrospect, I never truly cared for him. What is love? At that young age, I understood nothing!
Afterward, there were several intermittent online relationships, but none led to meeting in person and ended without any resolution—until my senior year when the Key Class and Regular Class were rearranged after an exam. It was no surprise when I re-entered the Key Class; thus, there was no joy in it either. However, a cheerful girl sitting behind me brought forth pain and guilt that would affect me for life.
For poor people, what is most important? Money? No, that's something rich people value. The poor have nothing; their only foundation is integrity. Therefore, our restructured family prided itself on character and never engaged in any immoral acts. Though we were poor, our spines remained straight! This was our family's declaration to the outside world and our internal support.
As for that girl, it was the first time I bent my back.
I don’t want to mention her name; if she ever sees these words, I want to say I'm sorry.
She was slender and tall, lively and kind-hearted—a heart-shaped face with bright eyes and neat white teeth adorned with patches of freckles on her cheeks. To me, those freckles were not flaws but symbols of her vitality.
As mentioned earlier, she sat behind me in class and our beds were adjacent in the dormitory. Her lively nature made it hard for me—a reserved person—to resist her repeated advances. Before long, I surrendered before her charm; she became an accessory in my life. We would drag each other during morning exercises; rush to the restroom together after class; dash out of school at noon to buy fragrant braised noodles; sneak chats during evening study while copying each other's homework... But she was so kind to everyone that it sealed my fate as her pet dog—she made many friends while I had only her. Jealousy crept in; I withdrew and avoided her... Yet one day she returned to my side.
"Beibei! Beibei!" she called out joyfully using my dog-like name. "I want to ask you for a favor."
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