Qin Yan used to think life was like fallen leaves scattered across the ground in autumn, trampled by passersby until they lay in tatters. Then, on a rainy morning, he happened to meet the person who would change the course of his life. Standing at the lectern, that person wrote three characters in chalk: “Xu Wenxiao.” From then on, Qin Yan held on, piecing himself together and pressing forward, chasing after him until he could stand by his side. Little did he know that, at one time or another, he had also lit up that other soul.
“Even if life is a muddle and the road ahead is completely uncertain, at least one thing will always be clear: I love you.”
“I know that too. I know it clearly: I love you, my little one.”
