When Song Qianjin met Qi Zhaoxun for the first time, the man was skipping classes by climbing over a wall.
Her silver earrings dazzled in the sun, and her trousers were stained with mud from the flower bed next door.
"Good student, report me?" The young man raised his eyebrows while holding a grass stem in his mouth.
Later, Song Qianjin found out that this man always had a jade cicada from the Han Dynasty hidden in his sleeve.
In the repair room late at night, Qi Zhaoxun's fingertips touched the thousand-year-old crack: "It has more rules than a living person."
On the night of the heavy rain, Song Qianjin saw him curled up under the street lamp feeding stray cats.
When the edge of the umbrella was raised, raindrops were dripping from the tips of the opponent's hair into the depression of the collarbone.
"Have you seen enough?" Qi Zhaoxun suddenly raised his eyes, "Either take me in or get out."
