Water&Well&Page
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I think to write, I write to think
Stories (67)
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Don't Hollow Your Nest for a Half-Grown Son
Sigh, speaking of this, my heart feels like it’s being crushed by a giant boulder—I just have to get it off my chest. Take my cousin’s family as a prime example; it’s a living, breathing textbook case. Now, whenever I meet anyone, I can’t help but nag a little: if your son doesn't yet have the ability to "support a hearth and home," parents should never rush him into marriage, and for heaven's sake, don't lose your head and pour out your "coffin money"—your entire life savings—just to set him up! That’s not bringing a daughter-in-law into the family; that’s digging a hole for yourself, and a bottomless one at that!
By Water&Well&Page4 days ago in Humans
The Cost of a Faraway Sister's Return
To be honest, I’ve kept this bottled up for years. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to seem petty, but what happened a few days ago felt like swallowing a fly—I couldn’t spit it out, and I couldn’t choke it down. After thinking it over, I needed a place to vent about my sister-in-law—my husband's older sister—who married into a family far away.
By Water&Well&Page5 days ago in Humans
The Thin Walls of Solitude
The day I moved into this old walk-up, it was raining. The landlady stood at the threshold, handing me the keys with the weary air of someone who’d seen it all. "Listen, girl," she said, "the soundproofing here is terrible. Keep it down at night." At the time, I didn't think much of it. How bad could it be? It wasn't my first time living in a weathered neighborhood.
By Water&Well&Page5 days ago in Humans
Behind the Iron Bars: Huddling for Warmth
My name is Lao Zhou. I spent eight long years in a prison in Northern China. It wasn’t for some heinous crime—just a moment of youthful impulse. I’ve paid my debt to society, every last cent of it. Since my release, people always corner me with the same question: "Lao Zhou, those years inside... how did you handle that? You know, your needs?"
By Water&Well&Page5 days ago in Humans
The Ordinary Person's Survival Logic
My name is Li Ran. I’m thirty-two years old. As I sit in my rented apartment typing these words, the lights of Beijing’s outskirts beyond the Fifth Ring Road flicker incessantly outside my window. To be honest, if I had understood these truths five years ago, I’d probably be sipping tea inside the Second Ring Road by now. But there are no "regret pills" in life; there are only the pits you’ve fallen into and the words you only truly understood after the fact.
By Water&Well&Page6 days ago in Lifehack
The Scarf and the Ten-Year Silence
My phone vibrated while I was in the kitchen, fumbling through the chaos of frying an egg. It was a WeChat message from Old Chen: "Class reunion next Saturday. It’s been ten years since we’ve had everyone together. You coming?"
By Water&Well&Page6 days ago in Writers
Thirty, Five Men, and the Art of Not Settling
My name is Chen Xiaohe, and I just turned thirty. You might not believe it, but in the six years between twenty-four and thirty, I lived with five different men. These weren’t messy flings; they were "proper" relationships—dating, moving in, breaking up—repeated five times over.
By Water&Well&Page6 days ago in Humans
Behind the Iron Gate: Fifteen Years a Guard
My name is Lao Zhou. I spent fifteen years as a supervisory officer in a detention center before retiring this year. Over those fifteen years, I’ve seen every kind of person and heard every kind of story. But there is one thing people on the outside are always speculating about—something TV shows make look mysterious and the internet fills with rumors: how do people in there handle their most basic human needs?
By Water&Well&Page6 days ago in Writers
