Xing Ruochu

[13 Years old, summer with noisy cicadas] He pulled away the boy who was tugging on her pigtails: "Try touching her again?" Throwing his schoolbag behind his shoulders, the young man Nong Feiyu straightened his back. [18 Years old, the rainy night when the college entrance examination results were released] She clutched two identical admission notices and waited downstairs at his house until she was soaked to the skin. "Shall we go to Zhongcheng together?" His hand cleaning the window suddenly stopped, and the water marks were like tears. [25 Years old, book signing] As the spotlight flashed, writer Lin Wan smiled and thanked her. I looked up between signings and caught a glimpse of a familiar figure at the end of the queue - a man wearing a simple plaid shirt with old scars on his fingers glaring. "Nonsense?" She lost her voice on the phone. He took the book and traced the pen name on the title page with his fingertips: "'Waiting for Island'? Who have you been waiting for all these years?"