Music speaks of her love.
She walked a long mountain road for him, followed him and watched him go. His eyes wandered, but he never left his direction.
She fetched water for him in front of the school, where the well could see down the slope of the classroom where he taught.
She cooked rice for him and gave it to him in a big celadon bowl, hoping that he would eat the rice she made with her own hands.
She made dumplings for him, chased his car, sent each other over the mountains, and finally fell somersault on the hillside, lost the hairpin he sent, and cried like a child.
She put on a red cotton-padded jacket for him, accompanied by the pink hairpin he gave, so charming and thoughtful, just for the astonishing look in his eyes when he saw her.
She changed the window paper and pasted the window grilles for him, cleaned the classroom, and heard the sound of reading aloud like a hallucination, and he looked upright and focused when he taught. These hallucinations supported her. In those difficult years, when right and wrong were reversed, she still held her reverence for knowledge and waited for him to be rehabilitated from the county seat.
She had a high fever for him, and when she saw his concerned face in a daze, the man would also be moved. He escaped from the county town to visit her, and then was sent back.
She waited for him for several years, and after the rightists were rehabilitated, he finally never left her side.
Such an ordinary and trivial plot, but the heart is very painful, tears flowed down.
How much do we have to do for our loved one so that he can stay by our side forever?
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