"I spent five years of my youth proving that we loved each other, one death proving that we were wrong for each other, and the rest of your life regretting it proving just how much I loved you."
Li Jiahe, a poor art student, met Jing Zhengyi, a prodigy in the finance department.
He said love could conquer anything, and she risked everything to believe him.
But she didn't know that some love is shackled from the very beginning.
A check from his mother, Qin Wanqing, an anonymous report, her grandmother's benefits being suspended, the lease on her studio being terminated... Reality was a dull knife, slowly slicing away the fairytale's facade.
And on countless nights, he was locked inside his home, swallowing the "anti-anxiety pills" his mother gave him, calling her name over and over in his hallucinations.
The night before her grandmother died, she held her hand and said, "Hehe, Grandma is leaving you these fifty thousand yuan."
"Jing Zhengyi, in our next life, let's not fall in love at the wrong time."
"And there's one more thing: I was pregnant with your child. He died that rainy night. Now I'm going to die too."
Li Jiahe died in the spring of her twenty-fifth year, leaping from the hospital roof.
Clutched in her hand were a yellowed hospital admission slip and a faded silver ring, the one he'd tearfully given her while drunk, but which she'd never worn.
When he rushed to the hospital like a madman, all he saw was that glaring red stain on the ground.
Later, Jing Zhengyi never married. He lived to the age of eighty and died beneath a cherry tree in early spring, clutching a photo of her from their university days.
His gravestone bore only one line: Old snow never left the green mountain; from then on, spring's colors never
It's super cruel, it tortures the body and the mind. No one can escape completely. This is the road of love, unless you change your sincerity.