At graduation, the girl said to the boy: I'm going to Beijing. Zhongguancun in Beijing is known as China's Silicon Valley. There are many opportunities there, and it will be easier to succeed in the future. The boy said: Then I'll return to my hometown in Sichuan. That's the Land of Abundance, with many beautiful women. If you become successful and don't need me, I can easily find someone else. The girl gently tapped her small fists on the boy's broad chest, pouted, and said, ‘All you can think about are women. Hmph, even if I don't want you in the future, you can only think about loving me. You're not allowed to look for other girls.' The boy held the girl's hand and tenderly kissed her forehead, saying, ‘Silly girl, our parents are all in Sichuan. If you go to Beijing, I, your good son-in-law, of course have to go back to take care of your parents.' The girl's starry eyes sparkled with tears as she threw herself into the boy's arms and didn't get up again. Although they were separated by distance, their feelings did not diminish. Their deep longing could only be conveyed through radio waves, sending text messages and making phone calls, and the two of them devoted themselves wholeheartedly to the revenue of the country's telecommunications industry. One day, the girl read a story online, also about a couple. Every time they called, the boy would wait for the girl to hang up first. After experiencing the vicissitudes of life, the girl realized that the man who loved her most in this world was the boy who always waited for her to hang up the phone first. The girl remembered this story that made her sigh and cry. That night, after finishing a call, she said to the boy: ‘You hang up first.' The boy was momentarily stunned and said, ‘Silly girl, what's the difference who hangs up first?' The girl acted coquettishly and said, ‘No, no, you have to hang up first. If you don't, I won't talk to you anymore, and you won't find a wife.' The boy paused for a few seconds, chuckled lightly, and said, ‘Got it, silly girl. For the sake of not staying single in the future, I'll hang up first. You really know how to waste phone credit.' When the girl heard the first busy signal after the boy hung up, she laughed heartily and thought to herself, ‘Darling, I love you even more than you love me.' From then on, whenever they made calls, whenever they said goodbye, she would hold her phone quietly and wait for the boy to hang up first. And the boy would always smile, affectionately call her a silly girl, and then hang up the phone.Over time, the girl gradually felt a faint sense of grievance: 'Do you know, hm, every time I wait for you to hang up first. I love you so silently, yet you don't know it at all.' She wanted the boy to read that article as well, so he could know how much she loved him, and maybe one day he could wait for her to hang up first just once, so she could truly feel what it means to be loved—how wonderful that would be. The girl restrained herself. Her happiness contained both sweetness and bitterness. She thought: 'To be able to love a man deeply in a unique way for a lifetime is also a kind of happiness.' Like all migrants in Beijing, the girl's days were not comfortable, but living in a tube-style building, compared to those living in basements, her living conditions were considered good. The initial ambition and resolve had been worn down to just a small remnant, but the strong-willed girl never complained to the boy; she simply got more used to saying 'I love you' to him. \ The community where the tube-style building was located did not have good security, and there was even a pervert who specifically stole women's underwear. Previously, with another girl renting with her, the girl did not feel anything, but that girl had to go home due to family matters, leaving the girl alone in a two-bedroom apartment with a living room, kitchen, and bathroom. She naturally felt lonely and scared. \ That night, the girl was awakened from sleep by a rustling sound. Listening carefully, it came from the door. She clutched her corner of the blanket tightly, shaking all over, not daring to breathe, as helpless tears silently streamed from her eyes. \ Suddenly, her hand touched the phone under the pillow, as if grasping a lifeline. She immediately sent a message to the boy: 'Darling, I'm scared.' \ In fact, her boyfriend was far away in Sichuan. Could a single message do anything? Besides, it was the middle of the night; the boy might have already turned off his phone and gone to sleep. The girl forgot to call the police first; in this moment of greatest fear, she only thought of him. \ To her surprise, within a few seconds of sending the message, the boy's call came through. She answered gently and heard his concerned voice: 'Silly girl, did you miss me?' \ The girl tried to lower her voice and told the boy that she was home alone, there might be a thief outside the door, and she was very scared.The boy comforted the girl, telling her not to be afraid. He thought for a moment and said to her: 'Turn your phone's speaker on, turn the volume all the way up, and slowly go to the door. Don't be afraid, dear, trust me, don't be afraid.' The girl was smart and clever, and as soon as the boy said that, she understood his intention: he wanted to shout loudly through the speaker so that people outside would know there was a man inside, and anyone intending to steal or cause trouble would leave if they were sensible.
The girl, trembling, approached the door, turned on the speaker, and set the volume to the maximum. She then gently spoke into the microphone: 'Alright, I'm at the door, and the speaker is on.'
At this moment, the girl realized there were people outside, and not just one; she could hear them speaking softly to each other.
Just as her body was trembling so much that she could barely stand, a loud voice suddenly came from the phone: '***, who's messing with my door?' The guys inside all got up, realizing the visitor had arrived.
The boy's voice was loud and rough, startling the girl. But the people outside were likely frightened even more; the girl only heard a series of thumping footsteps gradually moving away, apparently scared off.
The girl exhaled, and her legs gave way, collapsing to the ground.
After a while, the boy gently asked: 'Have the people outside left, baby?'
The girl finally cried, speaking into the phone: 'Darling, I miss you.'
Still shaken, the boy comforted the girl the whole night. They held the phone and talked until dawn. The girl said: 'Let's hang up soon. We've been on the phone for so long; how much is this long-distance call going to cost?' The boy laughed and said she was really a silly girl. The girl replied, 'Yes, silly. Only a fool would fall for you. Now hang up, darling. Be careful at work today, don't fall asleep and get scolded by the boss.'
After hanging up, the girl felt a wave of sweetness. She enjoyed the sense of security the boy gave her. But the only flaw was that the boy seemed to have formed the habit of hanging up first, and this time was no exception. The girl thought: 'He's really good, but he doesn't love me as deeply as the boy in that story loved the girl. He's never let me hang up first.'The weather was starting to get hot, and many of the girl's light clothes had no pockets, so she often forgot to bring her phone. For example, she would leave it on her desk during lunch after work, or leave it in her rented apartment when going out with her roommate. Every time she came back, she would find missed calls and messages from the boy. Only at these times did she feel it was a bit fair: Hmph, always hanging up on me first, not answering your calls in time should be a little punishment, don't feel wronged, silly pig.
May 12th, an ordinary day more ordinary than any other, the girl was diligently working at that small company, tirelessly pursuing her little dreams.
Just before leaving work, news spread in the office: a major earthquake had occurred, with Wenchuan, Sichuan as the epicenter. It's said the magnitude is similar to the Tangshan earthquake.
The girl was shocked and instinctively reached for her phone in her pocket—she had forgotten it!
She immediately picked up the office landline to call the boy, but the line cut off once she dialed. She tried his home number, still no connection. It seemed the communications in Sichuan had also been completely damaged by the earthquake.
A sense of foreboding rushed over her. Anxious and restless, she couldn't wait to finish work and rushed out of the office building, hailing a taxi to her rented high-rise.
When she turned on her phone, there were more than fifty missed calls, all from the boy. She flipped through them and found an unread message:
"Baby, my dear, silly girl, I call you using all the love I have in this life. I love you, more than you love me. Ever since you insisted I hang up first that time, I knew you must have read that story too. But my dear, I want to tell you, I love you, more than you love me.
Actually, I've read that story too, long ago. It's a beautiful story because of its regrets, but it doesn't belong to us. I don't want that kind of beauty, that beauty with flaws. I don't want it! Heart-wrenching passion will inevitably accompany excruciating pain. I'd rather we live a safe and peaceful life together than experience that kind of heart-wrenching love. I just want to spend my life with you, hand in hand, growing old together.
I don't want that kind of tragic beauty. I only want real happiness. I never dare forget to bring my phone, afraid that one day you might miss me. If I didn't bring my phone, I worry you would feel as down as I would. Many times, even when going to the bathroom, I have to keep my phone in my pocket."I never turn off my phone at night. Every night before sleeping, I change the battery once and turn up the ringtone. I'm afraid that you might feel scared one night and want to talk to me, and if I turn off my phone, you would feel even more lonely in a foreign place. Every time, you always make me hang up first. I know it's because you love me, and it makes me happy. Every time I think of it, my eyes well up; my phone is never turned off, but you don't know that—it's because I love you even more. Don't blame me for never telling you, my baby. I wanted to wait until we are both old enough to become monsters to tell you. Silly girl, it seems I don't have the luck to accompany you for a lifetime. That prefabricated panel on my back has been pressing on me for more than two hours. My entire chest and back feel like they are tearing apart in pain. I can even smell the metallic scent of my own blood. Baby, I might not be able to continue walking this path with you. My dear, I want to hear your voice. I keep calling your phone over and over—why don't you answer? My dear, can you hear me calling for you? My dear, it's so dark here, I'm so cold, I want you to hold me. My dear, my beloved, my baby, I love you. Right now, I am so cowardly, so afraid of dying, because that means I can no longer kiss you or take care of you. I'm even more worried that you will be heartbroken because of me. Don't be like that, my dear. I'm leaving, you find someone in Beijing to take care of you; there are many successful people and opportunities there. You are the purest angel in heaven, and I fear that without anyone protecting you, you might get hurt. Promise me, my dear, if there is another man who loves you like I did, don't ever ignore his calls. I know how much pain he would feel then. I can't breathe, baby. Goodbye. In the next life, I will definitely be your husband! Baby, my dear, silly girl, once again I use all the love of this life to call you. I love you even more than you love me. A girl's tears are like a dam bursting, crying so much she can't even breathe. She lifts her head to the sky, tightly closes her eyes, and lets out a heart-wrenching scream: My dear, in the next life I will still be your wife, and I will never turn off my phone again.
