Xie Lian

Until one day, while she was reading, he slowly approached, pulled the book down, looked deep into her eyes, and gave her their first kiss—sweet, longed-for, sealing everything they felt. They lived inseparable days, moments that would be forever etched in his memory.

But one night, around a crackling campfire, eating together under the starry sky, Xie Lian said, her eyes shining with hope:
— When I get back to my family home, I'm going to ask you to marry me. I want it to be forever.

Her heart filled with joy, but then tightened with fear. She thought: "My life is complicated, full of things he'll never understand... what if this destroys everything? Better to go before it's too late."

The next day, at dusk, almost night, they arrived at a gas station. She, with a heavy heart and sad eyes, asked in a soft voice:
Xie Lian, please go inside and buy me a bottle of water?

He, cheerful and confident, went without suspecting anything. While he was there, she acted quickly and silently: she put his bicycle in a corner, his bag with his things too, moved everything outside, got into the motorhome and started to cry. She started the engine and drove off.

When Xie Lian returned with the bottle in his hand, he found only his belongings on the ground, the emptiness where the vehicle had been. His world collapsed. He screamed her name in despair and broke down crying, feeling betrayed and lost, unable to understand why she had left.

From that day on, Usuário decided to win him over slowly, with the joy that only she possessed. She stopped the motorhome in a place surrounded by wildflowers, took out her cell phone and turned on some upbeat music. She began to dance lightly, then extended her hand to him. Xie Lian, all stiff and shy, refused at first, but she insisted with such a sweet smile that he couldn't resist. Little by little, the two danced together, losing their rigidity, letting the atmosphere lighten.

At another moment, they climbed onto the roof of the motorhome, sitting with their feet dangling out, gazing at the breathtaking landscape. On impulse, they shouted together towards the valley, releasing all the sadness, all the weight of the past. That shout seemed to clear the air between them—and Xie Lian began to open up, to truly fall in love. She promised him:
I'll travel everywhere with you. The world is ours.

They stopped in a field that seemed to shimmer in the light—full of her favorite flowers. She picked them carefully; he brought two bottles, one for each of them. Then they danced back to back, rubbing their backs together, laughing, feeling the simple joy of being alive and together.

Over time, he became very affectionate: he would hug her from behind whenever he could; when she was distracted, he would gently stroke her chin with his fingertips; and every time she read a book inside the motorhome, he would sit quietly beside her, simply enjoying her presence.

On a beautiful day, she in a beige dress, he in a black and white striped shirt with headphones around his neck, he made a firm promise:
I will always be by your side, User.
When something suddenly startled her, he held her arm firmly and protectively. Then, he gently spun her around—she opened her arms, letting herself be carried by the rhythm, light as a feather. At dusk, they sat side by side in a chair, just the two of them, leaning against each other, watching the sun set. And whenever she looked out the motorhome window, he would hug her and make her laugh, banishing any shadows.

During a stop in an open field, User picked a bouquet of yellow gypsophila and offered it to him with a sweet smile:
This flower is special. It doesn't wilt quickly, it withstands wind and time, and it remains beautiful and strong. That's how I want us to be.
He took the bouquet, but with a hard look in his eyes. Without saying anything, he turned, opened the window, and threw the flowers out, where they fell onto the asphalt.

The user was momentarily irritated and hurt, feeling the gesture as a cold rejection. But she took a deep breath and thought: "He still doesn't trust me, but I won't give up." And so, with a firm but patient heart, she continued her journey alongside him.

End of Chapter 1 ✅

The atmosphere inside the house was heavy, suffocating. User's family was controlling, rigid, where every step had to be approved. In that final argument, the tension exploded: someone from the family pulled her hair forcefully, in an attempt to humiliate and dominate her. That was the last straw. With eyes sparkling with determination, User grabbed a pair of scissors, cut her hair right there, framing her face with newfound courage. And without saying a word, she turned her back and left—without looking back.

Weeks before, she had already prepared everything: she had spent her entire salary, every penny she had, to buy an old yellow motorhome. With her own hands, she decorated it with great love: she painted details on the interior walls, glued dried flowers adorning the corners, leaving every part with her own personal touch — a home made of dreams and freedom.

As she sat behind the wheel and started the engine, an immense joy washed over her. As the motorhome sped off, she began to sing, her free and light voice mingling with the wind that streamed in through the open windows. For the first time in a long time, she felt in control of herself.

It was in the middle of the road, on the long, straight stretch of asphalt, that she saw him. A young man alone, beside a bicycle, posture withdrawn, gaze lost—he seemed to have nowhere to go. The passenger stopped beside him and smiled warmly:
Hey! Want a ride? Let's travel together!
He, suspicious and withdrawn, refused immediately:
I don't know you. I don't want to go.

But Usuário didn't give up. She began to slowly walk alongside him in the motorhome, gently persisting, talking through the window, without pressuring him, without tiring him. Gradually, her persistence softened his resistance. Tired of walking and sensing her sincerity, he accepted: he climbed onto the vehicle and secured his own bicycle to the roof of the motorhome.

During the trip, the contrast was striking: she was talkative, cheerful, telling stories and pointing out landscapes; he was quiet, shy, withdrawn, observing everything with attentive but reserved eyes.