He had pushed away the person who loved him most in the world with his own hands.
The cruelest thing Lin Yian ever did was smash the maple-leaf bracelet that Shen Xinyu had stayed up all night making, stringing together seventeen beads, right in front of her one early autumn afternoon.
He said the most hurtful things he could. He watched the light in her eyes slowly fade. He watched her turn and leave, her slight figure like a fallen leaf that might be swept away by the wind at any moment.
He never told her that he’d just received a diagnosis: end-stage congenital heart disease.
He thought pushing her away would protect her.
But fate never shows mercy just because someone thinks they know best.
That autumn, he smashed her bracelet.
That autumn, she gave him her heart.
Many years later, he finally understood that autumn.
But by then, autumn was almost over.
