The seventeen-year-old wind passed through the sycamore corridor, quietly burying a heartbeat that no one knew about in the ashes of time.
Su Nian, suffering from unspeakable illness, cautiously approached the light; Shen Yubai, wrapped in sharpness and loneliness, clumsily sent out tenderness.
They looked at each other from a distance across the hustle and bustle of the crowd, and they had the love of running in both directions, but they failed to end up walking side by side.
She chose to bear all the desolation alone, built a wall with indifference, and pushed away the most cherished boy;
He was trapped in the pride of a young man, angry and silent, unable to understand the despair beneath the disguise.
Later, the spring breeze came back every year, and the sycamore trees were still luxuriant.
Some people will always stay at the age of seventeen before midsummer arrives, while some people will live out the rest of their long lives with the truth that has been delayed for many years.
The years burn out, and the embers are silent.
Some encounters are only enough to amaze you, but not enough to stay together for a lifetime.
