There were three things Bai Sheng could never let go of and one person she would never forget. They took root and festered in the years of her youth.
The first was in a winter of whirling snow. The small southern city never got snow in winter, but in Bai Sheng’s world, snowflakes filled the sky.
The second was in an autumn when leaves fell from the branches. That autumn, as Bai Sheng watched the ground carpeted with ginkgo leaves, I secretly loved you as a friend.
The last time, Bai Sheng summoned all her courage and threw herself into the flames, only to hear him say, “I’m getting married.”
Their story began in youth and ended with time. She no longer had the courage to reach for that boy who seemed to shine with light. Their story was destined to be a farce with no ending.
