That year, she ran to me, and at the station at the entrance of the village, we hugged each other. Her eyes were wet with excitement, and I held her head and kissed her.
She was still reading, we were pen pals, and when mobile phones were not yet widespread, we were connected by letters. I went to work in a nearby factory after graduating from high school, she was a female college student, a girl in the city, and she was the envy of everyone, but I did not dare to show off, like I was afraid of strangers and God's jealousy.
Three years later, I went to town to get a new job and started studying at night university. We see each other every week. She soon became a senior, and the school recruited her to teach in the poor mountainous areas of the west, and to go to the year, she filled out the application and was selected. So after a short meeting, it was a letter farther away, and the one-way letter took 10 days.
So I knew she was well when she had a cold; I knew she was upset when she had forgotten.
A year is short and long, and I look forward to the last letter, which has her thoughts and return date. Five days late, I didn't receive it. I was in a hurry. Took a leave of absence and went to her. I followed the route she had told me, making trains first, then changing coaches, and then changing to broken coaches. Five days later, I found her. She was thin and energetic, and she had been discharged from the hospital and could not get out of bed yet.
It was raining that day, and she sent a few children home, slipped down the mountain and broke her leg. "If I'm lame, you'll look for it again," she said seriously. "It's all right, after I carry you, I'm your leg," I said, touching her head.
She was really lame, but her parents and family were no longer against us and we got married. Happy living together...
