Su Wan stepped on ten centimeter stiletto heels and carefully tiptoed over a murky puddle on the ground. The alleyways of the urban villages that had just rained were filled with a complex smell of dampness, mixed with the smell of rancid food and low-quality washing powder. In her hand, she held tightly the diamond-patterned Chanel bag that she just took out from the counter today. The brand-new lambskin felt delicate, like a small piece of ironed courage, barely supporting her through this embarrassing reality that was incompatible with her dress.
The public kitchen is the only way home, with greasy stoves, mottled walls, and faucets that are always dripping. Su Wan just wanted to get through quickly and return to her rental house, which was only ten square meters, but at least had an independent door lock and a small window that could see the sky.
Then, her steps froze.
There was a figure standing in front of the stove, with his back to her. A white T-shirt whose neckline was deformed and slightly yellowed after being washed, a pair of loose beach pants whose original color cannot be seen, and a pair of flip-flops. A very ordinary young man's dress in a village in the city.
But the outline of that back was thin, upright, and even had a familiar, lingering youthful feel, like a silent sap, hitting Su Wan hard on the back of the head.
Time seems to shrink suddenly and then be stretched infinitely.
It's Jiangyu.
Intention: Study hard, day by day.
