When Lin Tianfan, a silent Scorpio boy, met Ye Huimin, a Cancer girl holding a rose, Xia Tian on the other side of the network cable had already laid the groundwork. The fables of the constellations in the freshmen group and the seals of the same department on the admission notice made the weeds in the rural rice fields and the roses on the city windowsill destined to meet on the campus of Wuhu.
He brought with him an unfinished pure music manuscript, and she carried a vest-line practice plan, and they agreed to ride together through the morning mist of Zhe Mountain and share the dusk of Fantawild. But youth is never a code for traveling in a straight line. There is always an empty space between the same water cups in the library, and the mineral water on the basketball court can never be handed to the other party. Even the high degree of compatibility in the horoscope book has become the background sound when shoulders are crossed.
Those confessions hidden in the code comments and the worries caught in the gaps of the music scores eventually blew away with the wind of graduation season. It turns out that the most painful thing is not that we have never met, but that the star paths have intersected, but only the residual warmth of the weeds entwining the rose thorns is left.
