good evening

When I got home, I immediately took out my phone and did what I had wanted to do for the past few years but never dared to do—I searched for Gu Wanlin's WeChat ID and sent him a friend request.

She got through quickly, and when I saw her name change to "The other party is typing...", but no message came for a long time, I felt another pang of pain in my heart. I remembered how she used her knuckles to rub the number keypad when she opened the door, and how she needed to use assistive tools when eating. I guess she couldn't use chopsticks or hold a spoon by herself. Her fingers seemed completely incapable of fine motor skills.

Her hands have always been beautiful, with long, slender fingers and perfectly defined knuckles. You can faintly see blue veins on the back of her fair hands. When we used to hold hands, I loved to play with her fingers, pinching and kneading them one by one. I thought to myself that Gu Wanlin's hands were both beautiful and functional, truly one in a million. I don't know if others understand, but I certainly do. It's best if others never do.

But now, it must be very inconvenient for her to type.

So I sent her a message first: "I'm home, don't worry. You should go to sleep early too. Goodnight~", and I even carefully selected an adorable cat emoji.

Gu Wanlin paused for a moment, then replied with a cat emoji that said "Goodnight".

Hmph, I knew she'd fall for that. I chuckled, nestled on the sofa with a cushion in my arms. I'd finally waited for the day Gu Wanlin would send me a goodnight message.

Of course, I had my own ulterior motives. Although I did consider my pursuit of Gu Wanlin for the past six months to be nothing short of relentless, Gu Wanlin was a high-and-mighty flower, and I wasn't some roadside weed that could be easily picked. Of course, I also had my pride and reserve. Sometimes I would secretly hide my thoughts, just waiting for the right moment to make my move and deliver a beautiful, straightforward attack.

for example--

I first met her eight years ago in the summer at an inter-school competition. She was the president of her school at the time, sitting on the stage, radiating brilliance and high spirits. She was most outstanding in the debate segment. When others went on stage, she would prop her head up with one hand and listen attentively, while her right hand twirled her pen, writing down key information as she did so. When it was her turn to speak, she could always seize upon the problems in the opponent's previous statement and deliver a brilliant rebuttal.

I fell in love with her at first sight. I liked her intelligence, and of course, I must admit, I also liked her beauty and the youthful charm that is rarely seen in pretty girls.

Before the event ended, I mustered up my courage and approached her, softly calling her "senior sister," even though we weren't from the same school at all; she was just a year ahead of me and hardly a "senior sister" to me. I told her I really admired her performance on stage and asked if I could ask her for advice if I encountered any problems during training.

Gu Wanlin is actually much shy offstage, so he was a bit surprised to meet someone as straightforward as me. He said, "Oh, thank you for saying that. Okay, of course."

After getting her contact information, every night I racked my brains to think of topics that wouldn't seem abrupt to chat with her. We'd say goodnight to each other, and sometimes I'd pretend to type "wanan" instead of "goodnight." Summer turned to autumn, and through my continued efforts, our conversations evolved from awkward small talk to sharing everyday moments and delving into emotional topics at midnight. I pretended to be troubled and confided in her that I'd recently fallen for someone but was struggling with whether or not to confess my feelings.

Gu Wanlin encouraged me, saying, "If you like someone, just say it. No matter what the outcome, you should let the other person know how you feel. If you don't say it, how will they know?"

I said you're right. Then I switched to WeChat, went to the Messages interface, and sent a text message to her phone number: "Gu Wanlin. I like you."

Then I sent her a screenshot of how many times I had sent her "wanan" in the chat history. "Gu Wanlin, wanan, also means 'I love you, I love you.' wanan."

Later, when I pressed her to admit, "When exactly did you start liking me?", Gu Wanlin reluctantly confessed that although she found the cheesy pickup lines a bit awkward, she was genuinely touched by their sincerity. However, she added that she wasn't stupid; she had long suspected that my daily clinginess meant I liked her, and she just needed confirmation of my feelings.

I lay in her arms and coaxed her, saying, "Okay, okay, you are still the undisputed master of emotions, you are a cut above me."

I was lying to her. I still think I'm the better one.

When pursuing Gu Wanlin, I certainly didn't just sit on my phone sending her WeChat messages every day. I knew that sweet talk and caring words wouldn't work on someone as intelligent as Gu Wanlin; she might even find me annoying. The most important thing was to make her feel that you and she could resonate on a spiritual level. To be Gu Wanlin's soulmate, I had to launch a full-scale attack and conquer her one by one.

I also found her social media by following her classmates' social circles. I loved her even more after reading her posts online. Whether it was commenting on current events, expressing human observations, or even just venting her daily frustrations, her posts were sharp, humorous, and had a unique and adorable style that made my Ji Da even more radiant.

Sometimes, I get emotional late at night and write heartbreaking things that I'll definitely delete the next morning. Back then, I was even afraid to go to bed early so I wouldn't miss this late-night show. Actually, after reading a few posts, I understood: he likes his niece but can't have her. It's no big deal, Gu Wanlin. If she doesn't like you, it's her lack of class. Your new love interest is on its way.

After becoming friends with her, I racked my brains every day to think of what to post to attract her attention, to make her find it interesting, and to get her to leave comments and interact with me. Later, Gu Wanlin even admitted that she found my posts cute every day and had developed a liking for me early on, which is why she was willing to start chatting with me and sharing her daily life.

I thought to myself, "You've fallen for my trap. My plan was tailor-made for your tastes. I'm practically the chief 'gu scholar,' I've studied you thoroughly and put in so much effort. No wonder you're infatuated with me."

After our relationship reached a point of no return, I rarely took the initiative to recall our time together during the ambiguous period. Back then, it was as sweet as honey, but thinking about it later felt as bitter as poison.

Gu Wanlin, we were so close back then, how did things end up like this?

If I had a choice, I would rather never see Gu Wanlin again, and I would rather she live a healthy life somewhere in the world.

My daughter is so wonderful—beautiful, intelligent, gentle, and kind. She's incredibly generous, not only to girls who have dropped out of school, but also to charitable donations for African elephants. Why is fate so unfair to her, subjecting her to one devastating blow after another, making even basic daily life a struggle? Maintaining her dignity is so difficult for her.

Why should we?

My only consolation is that I've found her again. Whether she still wants me or not, I want to stay by her side.

I slept very well that night, and I hope my girl did too.

When Gu Wanlin woke up the next day, there were already messages in the group chat. Zhou, the caregiver on the early shift, said that she had already prepared Gu Wanlin. Today was her follow-up appointment at the spinal cord injury rehabilitation department of the hospital. Zhou had other clients after noon and couldn't find the time to accompany Gu Wanlin. Gu Wanlin said that she could go by herself and that there was nothing to worry about at the hospital. She said that if she fell, at least ten people would immediately surround her.

That won't do, I'm not comfortable with that.

I took out my phone and called Gu Wanlin directly, knowing full well what he was doing.

Gu Wanlin said she was going to the hospital and was trying to hail a taxi at the entrance of the residential complex.

I said, "Oh, so has your car arrived yet?"

Gu Wanlin paused and said it was not easy to get a ride. Several drivers came and saw the electric wheelchair, but they all said that it could not fit in their trunks and refused to take him.

She spoke of it casually, but I knew she must be incredibly heartbroken.

Gu Wanlin, just you wait, I'm coming to rescue you on my white horse. I was afraid she would politely and distantly refuse me again with "You have to go to work, so I won't bother you," so I came up with a plan and said, "What a coincidence! I'm on sick leave today, and I also have to go to the hospital for a follow-up appointment. Let me pick you up and we'll go together."

She pressed me for an answer. It was cold today, and I couldn't bear to let her sit outside in the wind, so I told her it wasn't anything serious and we could talk when we met; I'd be there in five minutes.

I spotted Gu Wanlin sitting by the roadside outside the residential complex from afar. Today, she was wearing a cream-colored fleece coat, a milk tea-colored cashmere scarf around her neck, loose-fitting light gray belted knit sweatpants, and high-top white sneakers. She also wore a white fleece bucket hat. I parked my car and rushed to her side. She looked up at me like a sweet little bunny, which melted my heart. Her complexion seemed a bit better, but her expression was still very somber. I was secretly glad I had come.

Today she was sitting in the same electric wheelchair I'd seen in her foyer yesterday. Perhaps as a precaution, she was wearing a seatbelt; two straps crossed over her chest, running from her shoulders down to her sides, securing her upper body to the wheelchair. Her right hand was still resting on the control lever, and her fingers, peeking out from her sleeve, looked slightly red. I took her hand in my hands; it was so cold. I breathed on it to warm it, then rubbed it between my own hands to warm it, asking if she was cold. Perhaps this gesture was too intimate, for she paused, somewhat awkwardly pulling her hand back, and said she was fine.

She drove her wheelchair to my car herself. I was about to call her over to help her lift the concrete step, which was about five centimeters between the sidewalk and the driveway, when this little devil just drove her wheelchair down in a thud. Her electric wheelchair looked really high-end, and it was quite stable over that height, although it inevitably wobbled a bit. Her neck and head shook violently from the jolting, which made my heart ache. Luckily, the seatbelt held her securely in place.

I drove to the passenger side, and she looked quite troubled. My car was an SUV, and the seat was much higher than her wheelchair cushion. But since she didn't say anything, I didn't dare to rush over to help her. I watched as she unbuckled her seatbelt, locked her wheelchair, reached out with her left hand to brace herself on the car seat, and with her right hand on her wheelchair cushion. She took a deep breath and lifted herself up, but her buttocks only lifted a few centimeters off the cushion, far from enough to get her into the car.

Her arms, which had been supporting her for so long, began to tremble slightly again. She lost her strength and fell back into her wheelchair. I asked her, "Should I help you?" She lowered her head and mumbled an "okay."

I went to her side, faced her, and bent down to hug her back tightly. She pointed out that hugging like that wouldn't give me any strength. I humbly asked, "Then where should I hug?" She raised her arms and wrapped them around the back of my neck, saying, "In a moment, my upper body will have to lean against you, and you'll lift me up by supporting my bottom." After saying that, her ears turned red, and she awkwardly turned her face away.

What's wrong, Gu Wanlin? I've touched every part of your body, and now that your butt's turned into a tiger's butt, can't I touch it anymore? What are you shy about?

Of course, I couldn't say what I was thinking. I could only say, "Okay, I understand. Relax. I go to the gym three times a week now. I'm very strong, so I'll definitely be able to hold you securely."

When I lifted her up, I was shocked. The weight in my hands was so much lighter than before. Just how thin was she now?

As I helped her onto the passenger seat, her legs dangled awkwardly, her shoes dragging on the floor. It pained me to see. Seeing me staring at her legs, she reassured me, saying it was alright, and adjusted her upper body to lean back in the seat. Having witnessed her harrowing wheelchair transfer yesterday, I had already consciously helped her lift her legs and place them in the car. This movement seemed to make her a little dizzy again; she closed her eyes and leaned back, saying thank you and asking me to fold up the wheelchair, explaining it might be a bit heavy.

I fastened her seatbelt, reclined the seat back as flat as possible, and told her to take a rest. We'll be there soon.