Jiang Tianfang never expected that he would return to his hometown county in such a way at the age of thirty-two.
Layoffs at major Internet companies, business failure, anxiety attacks, and my father's heart attack—a series of things were crowded together as if they were being discussed. He dragged his suitcase and stood at the end of the old street, looking at the closed grocery store, and suddenly thought: How about opening a bookstore? Just stay by yourself and don't accept guests.
He never expected that on the third day of opening, his first love in high school, Su Nian, would open the door and walk in with a stack of old books in his hands.
Su Nian had just returned from Beijing, was divorced, took her daughter, and worked as a Chinese teacher in a county middle school. She originally wanted to donate the pile of old books, but when she opened the door and saw Jiang Tianfang, both of them were stunned.
The air is full of gray.
The "Complete Collection of Haizi Poems" slid down from the bookshelf, and the page that was opened contained a yellowed ginkgo bookmark. Jiang Tianfang wrote about the leaves he picked up on campus in the autumn of his senior year in high school.
There were two words on the back of the bookmark, which he almost forgot.
——"Wait for me."
Later he learned that some of the letters that arrived late were also love letters. Some people will meet again after being separated.
