[Youth Angst / Choosing Each Other / A Touch of Bitter Military Romance]
Youth is intense and innocent, and he was clean-cut and fresh. Later, he became as tart as a sour orange.
It began when Qu Shiman stumbled upon a confession hurriedly brought to an end at the mouth of an alley: a girl with reddened eyes, a boy with a cold expression, and a breeze carrying the scent of oranges.
From then on, their paths seemed to be drawn together by an invisible thread...
Then one evening, the boy pinned her against a wall, his tall figure looming over her and his distinctive, crisp scent surrounding her. With her back against the cool wall, she heard his deep voice in her ear, earnest and leaving no room for doubt. “Qu Shiman, will you go out with me? I’ve already confessed to you three times. You know what they say: three strikes and you’re out, right?”
The girl pressed her lips together and said nothing. He saw the tips of her ears turn red and fell silent for a few seconds. Then, for once, his brow relaxed, and his voice softened. “Then... will you say yes next time?”
The breeze drifted softly through the alley, carrying the scent of oranges. It tucked the boy’s concession and the girl’s unspoken flutter of emotion into the deepening twilight.
