share time: 2025-10-26 00:31:33
Three years ago, Lu Chuan was a poor student who split instant noodles into two meals, delivering takeout until midnight to raise surgery fees for his critically ill mother. Lin Xiaoman, the campus belle, had been with him for three months—but on his most exhausted day, she pointed at a rich kid’s sports car and said, “I don’t want to suffer with you anymore,” then left without looking back. Three years later, Lin Xiaoman, in an old dress, knelt with a thud outside the convenience store where Lu Chuan worked, sobbing and grabbing his hand: “I was wrong! I don’t care about money anymore—take me with you, please!” Lu Chuan pulled his hand back, brushing his thumb over an old photo on the counter—it was him and his mother at the hospital. “The day my mom died, I sent you twenty messages. You replied, ‘Stop bothering me on my date.’” He placed a cup of hot pearl milk tea—her favorite once—at her feet, then walked into the rain. Lin Xiaoman hugged the milk tea, watching his back, suddenly remembering how he’d braved rain to buy her milk tea years ago. Her sobs shattered instantly.
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