When I was 28 years old, I saw my late lover's name on the freshman list.
The young man on the podium looked exactly like him, and even blurted out the secret code between us.
Until I found my photo in his textbook, with my lover's handwriting on the back: "If you forget you, please use these fragments to put me back together."
When the school leader ordered me to stay away from this "problem student," the young man grabbed my wrist in the heavy rain:
"Teacher, you taught me that the shape of ginkgo leaves remains even after they fall."
"Then Jiang Che is dead, can love still exist?"
The storyline is delicate and beautiful