It was the beginning of the first semester of high school. September in Chengdu was humid and sultry. Class 19 of Jinhuai Foreign Languages School welcomed transfer student Qu Yumo.
He comes from thousands of miles away and has cold eyebrows, as if he has brought the entire northern frost and snow into this southern class.
As the squad leader, Fan Muche was the first person to extend an olive branch to him.
At that time, he thought it was just the most common goodwill between classmates.
Later, Fan Muche understood that for some people, just one look is enough to cost them their entire youth.
He wrote down all his secret joys on the blank scratch paper, hid them in his careless fingertips when handing in his homework, and buried them in the panic of being discovered every time he took a peek.
However, before midsummer was over, Qu Yumo disappeared without warning, just as quietly as when he came.
Many years later, at a cutting-edge academic forum in the industry.
Fan Muze stood on the stage as the youngest invitee, but met a pair of familiar eyes in the crowd.
The man was wearing a suit and leather shoes, and his temperament was calmer and more reserved than when he was young. His once empty eyes were now full of undercurrents that he couldn't understand.
"Fan Muche," the man's voice was hoarse, but it hit his heart every word, "Can I still make up for the explanation I owed you back then?" He stood in the corner of the empty corridor, and his voice was astringent:
"Fan Muche, I didn't understand it at that time, but I understand it now."
"If you are still willing, this time, it will be me walking towards you."
It turns out that the ink whispers that year were not his one-man show.
Intention: Study hard, be civilized and progressive, make progress every day, be confident and sunny