When Li Li was seventeen, someone new appeared in her encrypted photo album.
Meng Shiyuan, her best friend’s older brother, five years her senior. At 188 centimeters tall, with a face like a perfectly rendered model, he drew attention wherever he went.
She swore she only thought he was good-looking, the way you might see a beautiful collectible figurine and want to keep it.
Sneaking photos, saving them, looking at them again and again: she thought it was a secret that belonged only to her.
Until one day, she accidentally caught a glimpse of his phone screen.
His encrypted album was filled with pictures of her.
The photos spanned from her first year of high school to the present, a full three years.
It turned out he remembered that she hated cilantro, would take a detour to walk her home on rainy nights, and would hand her a bandage that fit perfectly when she hurt her hand.
It turned out none of his “I was passing by” moments were chance, and every “coincidence” had been carefully planned.
It turned out that the aloof, distant Meng Shiyuan, who kept everyone at arm’s length, had secretly loved her for three years.
He said, “Li Li, I’ve waited for you for three years. At last, I don’t have to pretend to be human anymore.”
It was the sweetest summer.
Then she disappeared, leaving for the other side of the world with a secret she couldn’t tell anyone.
They met again five years later. He was a rising star in finance, and she had returned as an independent pianist.
He stopped her in her tracks. His eyes were red, but his voice remained restrained.
“Li Li, this time I’ll wait for you. No matter how long it takes.”
He held back for three years, waiting for her to grow up.
She ran away for five years, waiting until she was strong enough.
The white rose means, “I am worthy of you.”
Thankfully, in the end, neither of them let the other down.
