“From the moment we met until the day I die, you're the only one I'll ever love.”
With only two months left, Liu Ping'an began to sense her unspoken feelings. But he had always been timid and weak, and never dared to return her affection openly.
He was going to die of a terminal illness, but she knew nothing about it.
When the two of them faced their parting, Cuizi played “The Farewell Song” for him.
He didn't know the song. Cuizi simply smiled and changed “farewell” to “parting.”
Later, Liu Ping'an searched for a long time, but couldn't find the song anywhere.
When the cheerful melody ended, she smiled and told him, “A parting should be marked with a smile and a goodbye. If you cry as you say goodbye, that's a farewell.”
But she didn't know that their parting that day would be their last.
“Liu Ping'an, Liu Ping'an, you have to stay safe, safe and sound. I'll wait for you to marry me.”
Back then, I didn't answer. As I watched her walk toward the plane, a hint of sadness appeared in my eyes.
After a long while, it felt as if I were the only person left at the airport.
I silently repeated to myself, “Cuizi, when you think of me someday, please say my name to yourself. I hope the name Liu Ping'an will keep you safe and sound for the rest of your life...”
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