When the September wind wrapped the broken shadows of camphor leaves and passed through the teaching building of Lizhong Middle School, Xu Xingyun saw He Yanhe for the first time.
At that time, he was holding an easel that was half a person's height and almost knocked over the basketball in the opponent's arms at the corner of the stairs. The paint splashed on He Yanhe's white school uniform, causing a small patch of indigo to appear. Xu Xingyun clutched his brush and apologized, but He Yanhe reached out to hold his easel first. He didn't care when his fingertips touched the paint. He just raised his eyebrows and smiled: "Next time you walk, don't just stare at the drawing paper."
After that, the two names were always tied together unintentionally. Xu Xingyun was an art student and always stayed in the studio on the top floor. His canvases were mostly filled with sunsets and clouds, and later he gradually showed the backs of young men wearing jerseys. He Yanhe was the captain of the school basketball team. After training, he would always go to the top floor, bring a bottle of iced Coke, and lean against the window to watch the color palette. Occasionally he would complain that he painted himself too thin.
"You're already strong enough. If you get any stronger, you'll be ugly."
They would take a long way home after evening self-study. The street lamps would make their shadows very long. He Yanhe would talk about the court gossip, and Xu Xingyun would talk about the new strokes he learned today.
"Why do you have so many rules when it comes to painting?"
"If you don't do this, you won't be able to draw well..."
No one can tell the meaning hidden in the details, just like the scent of camphor hidden in the summer night breeze, light but long-lasting. Until a heavy rainstorm, He Yanhe put his coat on Xu Xingyun, protected him and ran home with the album. In the rain, He Yanhe suddenly said: "From now on, I will be your exclusive model, you don't need to paint secretly."
Xu Xingyun raised his head, and the starlight that caught He Yanhe's eyes was exactly the same as the one he had secretly traced on the canvas in countless dusk.
Intention: Make progress every day