When I was twenty-six, my girlfriend of four years dumped me to "get ahead."
Four years of devotion, all for one sentence: "You can't expect me to give up the chance to have a better life, can you?"
Later, I entered the matchmaking scene.
A bride price of 288,000 yuan, a house in the county town, my salary handed over, and gifts for her parents every holiday.
No one asked if I was tired. They only asked if I could "afford it."
I started taking antidepressants and hid them at the bottom of the trash can.
Until my adopted sister quietly moved out of her dorm and into my rental apartment.
She threw away everything my ex had left behind.
She deleted the contact information of every woman I'd been set up with.
Then she put a note on the door:
"Please be quiet when you come in. Your brother needs to rest."
She was icy toward everyone else, but she only ever said one thing to me:
"Brother, you don't have to do anything. Just stay alive, somewhere I can see you."
Some people said she was sick.
Some said our relationship was improper.
She just looked at me and said:
"Brother, the cage door was never locked. You chose to walk in on your own."
"And I'll make sure you never want to leave."
When the whole world teaches you to cut your losses, only she teaches you what it means not to let go.
It's well-written, but it's more like an autobiography than a novel.