When I met Zhou Wangshu, I was 23 years old. I helped him pick up the wool blanket he had dropped during his morning jog in the park.
He sat on the bench and smiled: "Thank you, my name is Zhou Wangshu, and I am the kind of person who will not live to be 35 years old."
For ten years, he taught me to read Oscar Wilde, showed me unfinished Gothic cathedrals, and held my hand in late-night emergency rooms.
He always said: "Gu Wan, you have to see the future for me."
On the night of his 35th birthday, he leaned on my shoulder and listened to Chopin's last nocturne.
Now I am 38 years old, I have his three-quarter hair style, and I write with his usual pine smoke ink.
The cardiologist looked at my physical examination report and frowned: "Your electrocardiogram is exactly the same as his."
I stroked the yellowed words "Zhou Wangshu" on the medical record and chuckled——
What a coincidence, even my heartbeat has learned to miss you.
