Candlelight dinner.
At the two sides of the table sat a man and a woman.
“I like you.” The woman toyed with the wineglass in her hand as she spoke lightly.
“I have a wife.” The man touched the ring on his hand.
“I don't care. I just want to know how you feel. Do you like me?”
The answer was as expected. The man raised his head and looked over the woman across from him.
Twenty-four years old, young, full of vitality, really a very good age.
Fair skin, a body full of life, and a pair of bright, expressive eyes.
Really a nice woman, what a pity.
“If you like me too, I don't mind being your lover.” The woman finally could not wait any longer and added that line.
“I love my wife.”? The man answered firmly.
“You love her? What do you love about her? By now she must already be old and faded, too ugly to be seen.
Otherwise, why have I never seen you bring her to the company's dinner parties...”
The woman wanted to continue, but after meeting the man's icy gaze, she gave up the idea.
Silence...
“What do you like about me?” the man spoke.
“Maturity, steadiness, your movements and manner are very manly, you know how to care about people, lots and lots of things. Anyway, you're different from the men I've met before. You're very special.”
“Do you know what I was like three years ago?” The man lit a cigarette.
“I don't know. I don't care, even if you've been in jail.”
“Three years ago, I was exactly one of those ordinary men you see now.” The man ignored the woman and went on.
“An ordinary college graduate, work not going well, drinking all day, losing my temper. Cold toward girls, using ** to vent my dissatisfaction and desire. I was even caught by the police for going to a nightclub to look for prostitutes.”
“And then?” The woman became interested, wanting to know what had changed the man. “Because of her?”
“Mm.”
“She always seemed able to see the essence of things very easily. She taught me a lot, told me not to care too much about gains and losses; not to care too much about what was right in front of me; told me to treat people as kindly as I could. Back then, in front of her, I was like an ignorant child. Maybe that feeling was about the same as how you feel toward me now. It was really strange then—stubborn as I was, I simply listened to her. Following what she said, I accepted reality, knew I was useless, and then worked hard. By the end of that year, work had improved a little, and we got married.”
The man flicked the cigarette ash and continued.
“Those really were hard days. Two people, one bed, and pitifully little furniture at home. You know? It was only after a year of marriage that I bought her her first diamond ring. I saved for more than half a year for it. Of course, I saved it behind her back. If she'd known, she definitely wouldn't have allowed it.”
“At that time, smoking and drinking had ruined my health. In the dead of winter, every night before bed she would still make soup for me. That taste—only she could make it.”
Immersed in those memories, the man forgot the time and just kept telling the stories of the past.
And the woman had no intention of interrupting at all, she just listened quietly.
By the time the man noticed the time, it was already 10 at night.
“Ah, sorry, I didn't notice the time, it's gotten so late already.” The man smiled apologetically.
“Now, can you understand? I can't, and I won't, do anything to wrong her.”
“Ah, I understand. Losing to someone like that, I can accept it completely.” The woman shook her head helplessly. “But when I reach her age, I'll be even better.”
“Mm. Then you'll be able to find an even better man. Right?
It's late, the soup at home will get cold, I'll take you back.” The man stood up, wanting to see the woman home.
“No, I can go back by myself.” The woman waved her hand. “Go back, don't make her wait too anxiously.”
The man smiled knowingly and turned to leave.
“Is she pretty?”
“..................Mm, very beautiful.”
The man's figure disappeared into the night, leaving the woman staring blankly at the candle.
The man returned home, pushed open the door, walked straight to the bedroom, and turned on the lamp.
He sat down by the bed.
“Wife, this is already the fourth one. Why did you make me become this good, so good that so many people like me? If this keeps up, I might change my heart. Why did you make me this good, and then leave first? I... I'm so lonely all by myself.”
The man spoke in a choked voice, and finally broke down in tears.
Tears fell drop by drop from the man's cheeks, landing on the photo frame in his palm. In the dim light, what filled the old photograph was the faint gentleness of the woman who had already passed away.
At the two sides of the table sat a man and a woman.
“I like you.” The woman toyed with the wineglass in her hand as she spoke lightly.
“I have a wife.” The man touched the ring on his hand.
“I don't care. I just want to know how you feel. Do you like me?”
The answer was as expected. The man raised his head and looked over the woman across from him.
Twenty-four years old, young, full of vitality, really a very good age.
Fair skin, a body full of life, and a pair of bright, expressive eyes.
Really a nice woman, what a pity.
“If you like me too, I don't mind being your lover.” The woman finally could not wait any longer and added that line.
“I love my wife.”? The man answered firmly.
“You love her? What do you love about her? By now she must already be old and faded, too ugly to be seen.
Otherwise, why have I never seen you bring her to the company's dinner parties...”
The woman wanted to continue, but after meeting the man's icy gaze, she gave up the idea.
Silence...
“What do you like about me?” the man spoke.
“Maturity, steadiness, your movements and manner are very manly, you know how to care about people, lots and lots of things. Anyway, you're different from the men I've met before. You're very special.”
“Do you know what I was like three years ago?” The man lit a cigarette.
“I don't know. I don't care, even if you've been in jail.”
“Three years ago, I was exactly one of those ordinary men you see now.” The man ignored the woman and went on.
“An ordinary college graduate, work not going well, drinking all day, losing my temper. Cold toward girls, using ** to vent my dissatisfaction and desire. I was even caught by the police for going to a nightclub to look for prostitutes.”
“And then?” The woman became interested, wanting to know what had changed the man. “Because of her?”
“Mm.”
“She always seemed able to see the essence of things very easily. She taught me a lot, told me not to care too much about gains and losses; not to care too much about what was right in front of me; told me to treat people as kindly as I could. Back then, in front of her, I was like an ignorant child. Maybe that feeling was about the same as how you feel toward me now. It was really strange then—stubborn as I was, I simply listened to her. Following what she said, I accepted reality, knew I was useless, and then worked hard. By the end of that year, work had improved a little, and we got married.”
The man flicked the cigarette ash and continued.
“Those really were hard days. Two people, one bed, and pitifully little furniture at home. You know? It was only after a year of marriage that I bought her her first diamond ring. I saved for more than half a year for it. Of course, I saved it behind her back. If she'd known, she definitely wouldn't have allowed it.”
“At that time, smoking and drinking had ruined my health. In the dead of winter, every night before bed she would still make soup for me. That taste—only she could make it.”
Immersed in those memories, the man forgot the time and just kept telling the stories of the past.
And the woman had no intention of interrupting at all, she just listened quietly.
By the time the man noticed the time, it was already 10 at night.
“Ah, sorry, I didn't notice the time, it's gotten so late already.” The man smiled apologetically.
“Now, can you understand? I can't, and I won't, do anything to wrong her.”
“Ah, I understand. Losing to someone like that, I can accept it completely.” The woman shook her head helplessly. “But when I reach her age, I'll be even better.”
“Mm. Then you'll be able to find an even better man. Right?
It's late, the soup at home will get cold, I'll take you back.” The man stood up, wanting to see the woman home.
“No, I can go back by myself.” The woman waved her hand. “Go back, don't make her wait too anxiously.”
The man smiled knowingly and turned to leave.
“Is she pretty?”
“..................Mm, very beautiful.”
The man's figure disappeared into the night, leaving the woman staring blankly at the candle.
The man returned home, pushed open the door, walked straight to the bedroom, and turned on the lamp.
He sat down by the bed.
“Wife, this is already the fourth one. Why did you make me become this good, so good that so many people like me? If this keeps up, I might change my heart. Why did you make me this good, and then leave first? I... I'm so lonely all by myself.”
The man spoke in a choked voice, and finally broke down in tears.
Tears fell drop by drop from the man's cheeks, landing on the photo frame in his palm. In the dim light, what filled the old photograph was the faint gentleness of the woman who had already passed away.
