In the spring of 2016, 16-year-old Qingwan met 17-year-old Sang Huaiyang for the first time in the hospital garden.
The young man was sitting in a wheelchair, and the spring sun was pouring down, warming the whole garden. But Sang Huaiyang was the only one, like a solitary whale from the deep sea, hiding in the gloomy years. A generation of genius, reduced to this, is like an unfinished novel chapter.
Sang Huaiyang's life is coming to an end. The spring butterfly he failed to successfully emerge from, had its wings shattered before it emerged from its cocoon.
Once again, Qingwan's heart suddenly ached because of Sang Huaiyang.
He is a person without a future just like her.
Qingwan likes to see the way Sang Huaiyang's fingers are tumbling on the piano keys. Together with the mutton-fat jade bracelet on his left hand, they are the same as the sound of the notes. They are cold and cold, like the snow-capped mountains that Qingwan has always longed for.
But the longevity lock around her neck held her firmly in place.
Qingwan often felt that maybe she should write a hundred love poems for Sang Huaiyang. But every time I pick up the pen, it's full of nonsense.
Sang Huaiyang became an existence that she could not describe with any words.
So, the girl locked all her youthful thoughts in her diary.
She said she wanted to be a skylark on the snow-capped mountains.
He laughed at her stupidity and said, how could there be a skylark on the snow-capped mountains?
She said, yes.
There are in her world.
In the spring of 2017, the bells were broken and the skylarks flew away.
As a result, people never heard the boy's music in the hospital again.
In the summer of 2018, the piano was restored and the jade was broken into pieces.
That was the last song played by Sang Huaiyang. The sound was not finished yet, as if it was a suspense left by the years.
Very light, very light. Is it termination? Is it a memorial? Or a new student?
No one knows.
No one cares.
…
Intention: Perfection
