My name is Le Xi, from Yunze in the south.
She is Zhaoyan, from Yan State in the north.
We met at Jixia Academy.
Zhaoyan is my senior sister, two years older than me. She is always cold, like the snow on the top of Yanshan Mountain that never melts all year round. Her eyes are deep and her happiness and anger are invisible.
And I, perhaps because I was born and raised in Yunze, always have a bit of detachment and innocence that I have never experienced in the world. The gentlemen praised me for my intelligence, and I knew that I could understand everything with just a few words, but I knew very well that that little cleverness was nothing compared to Zhao Yan's calmness and profound knowledge.
The time in the academy is like a stolen treasure, knowing that it will eventually end, but every moment is shining brightly.
There is no warning at the moment of heartbeat. We never said it.
I would secretly look at her side face, which was gilded with silver by the moonlight, and my heartbeat would beat like a drum.
I know she does too.
The idea: The country is for hire, and the fireworks are for seclusion.