The childhood sweetheart's plum blossoms withered, and the boy next door rusted away. (A top-tier tragedy)
When Liu Wuxin returned home at twenty-four, Fu Zijin already had a stand-in by his side who looked seventy percent like her.
The unexplained departure five years ago concealed twenty-three unsent letters and an old photograph yellowed with age.
"Mr. Fu, long time no see."
"You're joking, Miss Liu. Do we know each other?"
"We were childhood sweethearts from seven to seventeen, for ten whole years..."
"So Miss Liu still remembers. Then why couldn't you even spare me a goodbye?"
The cherry blossoms in Jiangnan bloomed and withered that year, and they had missed far more than twelve springs.
"The fireworks in Jiangnan this year..."
"I saw them."
"Were they beautiful?"
"Without you, they were incomplete no matter how I looked at them..."
