When the wind blew the magnolia buds in the alleyway and made them tremble, Chen Juan's bone pain arose again.
He was the pale boy who always huddled in the last row in the classroom. He hid the diagnosis certificate at the bottom of his school bag and chewed up the words "late stage bone cancer" into pieces and swallowed them in his stomach. Lin Yubai was the fastest runner on the playground. He was the boy who would squat down and look at him levelly and say, "When the magnolia blooms, I will take you to bask in the sun."
They agreed to wait for spring to come together, sit under the city wall all afternoon, and see all the flying catkins in the city.
But when Lin Yubai ran into the ward holding a crumpled medical certificate, the magnolia tree outside the window had just bloomed. Chen Juan looked at his red eyes and finally admitted: Some springs are never meant for waiting, but for saying goodbye.
"Your spring is my spring."
"Don't wait, my spring will never come."
Purpose: The impermanence of life and the regrets of youth: focusing on the sudden end of fate brought about by bone cancer, and writing about the agreement between two teenagers who failed to wait until the end of spring, to express the most powerless miss and regret in youth.