[A heartwarming, healing story]
The first time Xiao Ruo heard his voice on the radio, she was exactly twenty-one.
Half a year later, she stood outside the radio station and saw him, her eyes red.
At that moment, she knew for sure: it had to be him.
That handsome and refined man, with not a trace of worldly warmth about him;
That man who made her heart pound, made her forget her reserve, and melted all her steely resolve: Xu Jiayan.
Unfortunately, this elegant gentleman could not walk properly.
*
No one will ever know how many tears she shed, how many gentle words she spoke, and how many times she did things that struck him to the heart before the man who had been lonely for nine years finally shed his deep-seated insecurity.
Only then, on that heart-wrenching night, did he choke out, "Ruoruo, for you, I'll cover my ears from now on."
At last, one day, the man who blushed even when kissing her forehead in a crowd threw away his cane in the middle of the airport, held her face in his hands, and kissed her lips.
A note for readers:
There will always be someone whose arrival makes flowers bloom among the thorns beneath your feet.
This isn't an angst story. It's sweet and indulgent.
1. The male lead really is disabled. Skip this if that bothers you.
2. A heartwarming, healing story with a six-year age gap.
Highly recommend my completed stories next door: She Is Tart and Sweet as a Cherry and She Is Like the Moon.
Blurb for my new story, Love Grows in Tenderness
[Age gap of nine years / Sweet romance, no infidelity / Healing and redemption / Mutual devotion]
Blurb:
Lu Junyao stands at the very top of the pyramid. Everyone who knows him addresses him as "Mr. Lu" when they meet.
What amazes people isn't just his wealth and family background, but also his handsome face, seemingly untouched by worldly concerns.
Everyone in Beijing's upper circles knows the three things the Young Master of the Lu family likes: flowers, tea, and making essential oils.
They say that on Juan Yang Mountain, 2,500 kilometers away, the hills are covered in purple azaleas every March and April.
Beside a half-height earthen wall, Meng Juan kneels on the ground, her voice hoarse from crying. "Mom, I'm begging you. Please don't marry me off to the Meng family."
"No. The Meng family has already sent over half a pig. You have to marry into their family tonight."
Lu Junyao, wearing a windbreaker, walks by and glances at the girl kneeling on the ground, clinging to her mother's pant leg.
Later, everyone in Beijing's upper circles knows that Mr. Lu has a wild azalea growing by his side.
From his twentieth to his thirtieth year, for a full nine years.
*
The wild azalea keeps her place and knows her boundaries, never taking the initiative to get close to him. That night, he gets drunk, wraps one arm around her waist, and pulls her against him. His dark eyes fix on her.
"Meng Juan, what exactly do you take me for?"
Too many people have reminded and warned her: Don't get any strange ideas. You're not good enough for him.
She looks up, hides every feeling she shouldn't have, and smiles. "You're the person who saved my life."
His eyes gleam with burning intensity. "Listen carefully. I, Lu Junyao, am thirty-four and single."
He asks her, "Do you understand what I mean?"
She says nothing. She holds his face in her hands and kisses him.
This is the first time she's ever been so close to him, close enough to drive him mad and make him lose himself.
But when he opens his eyes again, she is once more too far away to reach.
So far that he can only touch her face on a screen.
Theme: His tenderness is the fiercest wine in the world.
