In the midsummer seven years ago, Shen Yan said "inappropriate" and tore up the Southern Admissions Brochure in Xu Zhiheng's hand, as well as all the agreements they made when they were young.
He pushed her away with a hard mouth, left with red eyes, and blocked all contact information. From then on, there was no intersection between them.
Returning to his hometown seven years later, at the door of the second-hand bookstore in Wuxiang, Xu Zhiheng ran into that familiar embrace. The tip of his nose still had the scent of pinewood from back then, and the drink in the other person's hand was still the Wenbaikai he loved to drink.
The reunion came unexpectedly, and the tug and pull was endless.
He would take a long way around and pretend to read a book, quietly helping him out; he would leave an umbrella on a rainy night, but hide in the corner and dare not show up.
The one-inch photos hidden in the wallet, the bookstore sketches covered with tape, the taboos and preferences engraved in the bones and blood have never been diluted by time.
It turned out that the duplicity of those years was just the clumsiness and timidity of youth; it turned out that he had never let go of the more than seven thousand days and nights they were apart, and neither did he.
The wind in the foggy alley is blowing, and the lights are swaying. This time, no one should let go.
Intention: Young people's duplicity will eventually be reconciled with gentleness, and those who have missed it can also find the rest of their lives in reunion.