After the Third Kind of Love

There are only two kinds of romantic love in the world. One is the love you see in TV dramas: no matter how cheesy it gets, it can still make you cry. The other is the love you're experiencing yourself: even if the other person is a pig, it can still leave you in pain, unable to sleep all night.

But now I know there is a third kind of love. Everyone knows about it, everyone is moved by it, everyone keeps quiet about it, and everyone is afraid to speak of it. It is an underground river, surging without end and sweeping everything along in its muddy current. If you're unlucky enough to encounter it, you'd best keep your distance. If you can't escape, and it sweeps you away, carrying you off to sink into a sweetness and pain that cut to the bone, then all I can do is wish you a happy ending. Though I know that's very, very hard, because I didn't manage it.

Yes, I couldn't do it. But even as the pain lingers through every silent night, and memories of sweetness and sorrow come surging back like a tide, I still have to laugh and talk as if nothing is wrong. I still have to make a living and keep going. I still have to fall in love, get married, and even have children, because after experiencing this third kind of love, I'm still alive...

This story is a continuation of The Third Kind of Love by Ziyou Xingzou, written in the hope of clearing the names of the hero and heroine. If, like me, you felt unsettled after finishing the story, come join me and share in this later chapter.

It won't be a very long story, but it is a story about emotions. I promise to give you the ending you want.

In tribute to this third kind of love, here's Lin Hai's A Few Degrees of Red Maples. If you don't like it, just press the Esc key.