The First Time We Met, It Was a Late-Summer Breeze; When We Met Again, Rain Fell That Year

The September breeze finally carried a faint, barely perceptible chill, dispersing the oppressive heat that had hung over the city all summer. During the back-to-school season, as the cicadas fell quiet and the autumn wind began to rise, it was the first time she and he met, and the most unassuming encounter of all. The cold rain fell like beads from a broken string, crashing down across every corner of the city. Eight years of love and three years of waiting earned her nothing but a cold “old friend” and “I won’t see you out.” “Goodbye, Gu Yanshen.”