I'm outgoing, humorous, impulsive, neurotic, easygoing, helpful, indecisive, and outspoken. This summer break has been frustrating. Because my looks are too ordinary, my biggest dream right now is to get plastic surgery and become a beauty.
A few days ago, I saw this news story in the paper: To get a pretty face, 18-year-old Sichuan girl Zhang Fang came to Chengdu to study nursing but wanted plastic surgery. But with only 1,000 yuan on her, "eyes could be done but not the nose." So she called her dad, claiming she was having trouble finding a school in Chengdu and demanding he come immediately.Zhang Fang confessed her desire for plastic surgery to her father, explaining that being beautiful would make it easier to find work in Chengdu. She asked her father to sell a kidney to cover the surgery costs. Her father agreed with her plan. Though this seems a bit cruel, it's touching that a daughter has such a father...
I love everyone who loves me, so I hope everyone loves me.I'm not afraid of your ridicule—my life's ambition is to be a vase. I don't understand why "vase" is universally admired yet becomes derogatory when applied to men. It's as if saying "vase" implies a woman is incompetent, relying solely on flashy adornments to attract male attention.I truly don't get it—what woman today doesn't crave attention and turn heads? But my looks are so average, I don't even qualify to be a "flower vase." So I've decided to get plastic surgery. I've secretly vowed: whoever pays for my surgery, I'll marry him and be his lifelong ornament. Everything comes at a price—beauty included.
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He Offered to Make a Deal With Me
Amidst days of anticipation, I met an online acquaintance who claimed to be 31, running a trading company with a car and a house.He offered to cover my plastic surgery costs. We met. I told myself this was just a transaction—I wouldn't fall for him. To show sincerity, he chose his newly purchased apartment as our meeting place.
The place was beautifully decorated with a romantic vibe. His taste was evident—five bookshelves overflowing with books spoke volumes.I curiously scanned his room. There was no trace of a woman's presence. He must be single—at least no woman had lived here.
He turned on the stereo, playing Richard Clayderman's piano pieces. Listening to this in this day and age, I thought he must be nostalgic for something, likely harboring deep nostalgia. He asked if I wanted coffee, tea, or Coke."Coffee," I replied. "This atmosphere calls for coffee." We began chatting. Our conversation wandered freely, touching on everything under the sun. I started feeling incredibly relaxed in his company. He recommended a film, The Piano Player, insisting I must see it—it was wonderful, he said. With that, he turned on the VCD player, pulled me onto the sofa, and we watched The Piano Player together.A romantic yet tragic story that moved me to tears. The film was truly beautiful. I'd never seen anything so good. The protagonist, 1900, a musically gifted orphan, grew into an exceptional pianist aboard a luxury transatlantic liner, drawing both jealousy and admiration.He experienced glory and sorrow, cherished friendship, and yearned for love—yet all this unfolded solely within the confines of that ship. Until he chose to end his life, vanishing into the sea along with the vessel... The protagonist, 1900, romantically and tragically evaded the path everyone else was walking.The line that struck me deepest: "A piano has only 88 black and white keys, yet these finite keys can produce infinite music. City streets, however, are like an endless keyboard of keys—how could such an infinite keyboard ever play music?"
He told me, 1900 could never be defeated. Watching The Piano Player, I felt more like I was treating him as the last "idealistic holdout." As the Virginia was about to be dismantled, people were frantically evacuating the sea, while 1900 calmly faced the crowd and the Virginia sinking into the ocean. He said:The land is too vast. It resembles a great ship, a woman, a long voyage... I stopped halfway not because of what I could see, but because of what I could not see." Ultimately, 1900 vanished with the Virginia into the azure, crystalline yet all-consuming sea.Joy and pain, sorrow and despair—these human afflictions no longer concerned him. In the sea, 1900 fulfilled his destiny.
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He Turned Out to Be a Sadist
His words made me feel inexplicably drawn to him, and I even began to fall in love with him.He wasn't like ordinary businessmen. He lacked the cunning and baseness I'd imagined. He was a scholar-businessman, exuding an air of refinement at all times.I even forgot why I'd come with him, forgot our deal... That night, I slept in his bed—it was my first time... What I never imagined was: he was a sadist. During intimacy, he bit me with his mouth, pinched me with his hands, and what terrified me most was how he choked me with all his strength... My body was covered in bruises from his bites.
Terrified, I tried to flee... I never imagined such a perverted man lurked beneath that refined exterior! He knelt before me, pleading, confessing his violent tendencies. He bit me because he loved me—“the deeper the love, the sharper the pain.” He claimed he wasn’t like this during the day, only losing control at night...He begged me not to leave him, promising to love me well and vowing to transform me into a beauty...
Thinking of the tens of thousands spent on plastic surgery, my heart softened. Besides, I'd already given him my virginity—I couldn't just walk away now and lose everything. His offer of money came with one condition: I had to marry him.
Only afterward did I learn he'd endured two failed marriages. I didn't need him to explain why—what woman could endure his abuse?
What should I do? I'm already on his sinking ship. Should I go down with it like 1900, or walk away decisively?