At That Time, We Were Young

In the normal campus, the most ignorant youth is hidden in the youthful age. We have grinned over an unsolvable question, cried with red eyes because of a friend's little awkwardness; we have been secretly "mourning" for a long time because of an unspoken confession, and we have clenched our fists and felt a bit of juvenile "hate" over trivial injustices. Those tiny joys, sorrows, and joys, those love and hatred that have not had time to be fully expressed, like dandelions blown by the wind, eventually fell gently into the torrent of youth, and slowly settled into a mark that is unique to us. At this moment, you might as well open a book. Perhaps in a certain passage of text, you can come across the little secrets carved on the desk, hear the laughter in the corridor between classes, find yourself who dared to love and hate, with the light in your eyes, and pick up those memories that will always be fresh. Youth never has a standard answer, but "no regrets" is our common footnote. Because of you, those ordinary days become sparkling. Each of us is the most precious protagonist in this youth story.