As autumn in Nancheng comes to an end, the leaves have almost fallen. The leaves of the French tung tree are rolled up wide and spread on the road, making a dry crisp sound when stepped on; the leaves of the camphor tree have fallen less, but the old leaves have turned yellow, and they fall rustlingly when the wind passes, like someone rolling a dice in an invisible place.
Lin Mu and Jiang Chen are moving forward together in this season.
She couldn't tell when it started - it might have been after duty that day, or it might have been when she put the water glass on his desk during a certain class and asked him to help him get it, or it might have been that she met him once at the school gate, and the two of them walked side by side for a short distance. No one took the initiative to say "let's be friends", or even said "let's go together". They just walked on the same road.
