He was nine years old that year, squatting in the yard to dry herbs.
She was seven years old and stood outside the courtyard wall watching him.
He handed her a candy, the cellophane glistening in the sun.
Later he taught her how to identify herbs.
Mint, perilla, mugwort, honeysuckle.
She asked him why he remembered so much, and he said: "Recognizing herbs is like recognizing people. The more you interact with them, the more familiar they become."
She knelt down and said to the plantain: "Hello, my name is Lu Qingning. We will be friends from now on."
He didn't say anything, but later in the book "Herb Identification Notes", there was a word written in very small characters next to the plantain page.
Good.
The day he left, she hid behind the curtains and did not go out.
What she didn't know was that he stood at the entrance of the courtyard for so long that a layer of mist fell on the car window.
His fingers scratched the glass once, and then again.
Later, two words were left on the car window.
The fog cleared and the words disappeared.
Reunion in the hospital twelve years later.
She didn't recognize his eyes or his voice.
He called her name, his voice still so quiet through the mask.
She held her stomach and raised her head, her heart beating a beat faster.
Not because of pain.
Later she asked him: "When did you recognize me?"
He said: "When you look up, you look exactly like you did when you were seven years old."
"What year?"
"You hid half of the sweet-scented osmanthus cake behind your back under the osmanthus tree, afraid that I would snatch it from you."
She was stunned and suddenly smiled.
It turns out that he remembered everything she remembered
