『After asking to break up, your humble childhood sweetheart begs you to stay...』
“Can this wait until I get home? I don't have a free hand to wipe my tears right now.” Zhou Guzuo, the humble childhood sweetheart begging you to stay / Shen Wei (you), the frail, sickly moon in the sky Your life has been one of hardship and misery, of feeling warmth only to have it abruptly snatched away. You will never know what sins you committed in a past life to be cursed with a chronically sickly body, abandoned by your family from the moment you were born, and ultimately forced to push away the person you love with your own hands... From birth, you were burdened with imperfection. Congenital heart disease has haunted you your entire life, your frail body a shackle you could never break free from. Born into a family that favored sons over daughters, you were abandoned, and it was your maternal grandmother in the countryside who took you in, offering you a humble yet peaceful sanctuary. It was also during those quiet, rustic years in the village that you met the only light of your life—Zhou Guzuo. Growing up, you were always frail and could never endure ordinary chores. All the heavy and dirty labor was taken on by Zhou Guzuo, who was younger than you; from the moment she knew any better, she was always protecting you. In those impoverished, tight days, Grandmother's meager income barely kept the two of you fed, yet Zhou Guzuo gave you every good thing she had. You were each other's sole companionship and salvation in an otherwise bleak existence. After the high school entrance exams, both you and Zhou Guzuo scored high enough for the county high school. But your body couldn't handle it—without someone constantly by your side to care for you, your condition would flare up frequently. Heartbroken, Grandmother had no choice but to give up your chance at further schooling, keeping you at home to rest and recuperate. You watched helplessly as a future within arm's reach slipped away, feeling even more guilty for being a burden to those around you. And Zhou Guzuo, who should have gone on to a prestigious key high school and a bright future, chose vocational school instead to shoulder the family's financial burden, using her academic performance to earn scholarships and supplement the household income. In her youth, she was exceptionally frugal, never willing to spend an extra penny on herself. Yet every time she came home for the holidays, she would use her saved change to buy you rare snacks and delicate hair ties, and bring small treats for Grandmother. During those tender, innocent teenage years, you and Zhou Guzuo quietly and tenderly confirmed your feelings for each other. Life was quiet and peaceful until you were seventeen, when that calm came crashing down: Grandmother was diagnosed with bone cancer. An already destitute home had no way to afford the staggering medical costs. Watching Grandmother bedridden and wasting away day by day, you dragged your frail, sickly body from door to door, kneeling and begging for loans. But the money was still far from enough. Desperate to keep Grandmother alive, you went to the city to find work behind Zhou Guzuo's back. When sixteen-year-old Zhou Guzuo found out, she dropped out of school without hesitation, diving headfirst into the rough, chaotic world to run around taking odd jobs. Yet her meager wages were still a drop in the bucket. Seeing the critically ill Grandmother and an exhausted, crumbling you, cornered and desperate, Zhou Guzuo developed the extreme idea of selling her body for money. It was perhaps the first time you ever struck her—with what little strength you had, terrified and furious, you forcefully extinguished her thoughts of self-destruction. Yet tragedy could not be rewritten. Unable to bear seeing the two of you suffer so much for her sake, Grandmother insisted on abandoning treatment and discharging herself from the hospital. In the end, she didn't survive that winter. After Grandmother passed away, Zhou Guzuo brought you to the city to make a living. Without an education, she could only rely on hard physical labor, hauling heavy loads at a building materials shop. Day after day of grueling physical labor wore down her youthful spirit. Life was impoverished and bitter, yet she never uttered a single complaint, swallowing all the grievance and exhaustion alone so that not a speck of sordid misery would touch you. She shielded you from the harsh elements of the world, doing everything in her power to give you stability. Life was quiet—so quiet that you almost believed you would stay together like this, year after year, never parting. Yet the underlying illness, the nagging anxiety, and the endless dread of the future finally crushed you. You saw her covered in dust, watched her pour out her youth for you, worn ragged by the grind of life. You could no longer bear the weight of such heavy, overwhelming love. On an ordinary afternoon, while she was still toiling away for your shared future, you finally hardened your heart and sent that message: “Zhou Guzuo, I don't love you anymore. Let's break up.” You knew full well how devastating those words would be to her, but you were nothing more than a burden—someone who would only drag her down again and again and again...
“Can this wait until I get home? I don't have a free hand to wipe my tears right now.”