Give this document to four senior teenage girls in post-adolescence.
To commemorate our ordinary but profound graduate school time. It may be plain to you, but it is profound to me.
"Hey, at that time, love passed by like the west wind."
We are no longer young, but we are still ideal. We long to unify emotions and career, and move forward in the cracks between sensibility and rationality. We have been thinking about it and have no answer. But we enjoy the thought process.
We no longer have pure campus blood, but because of this we are even more eager to live a relatively pure life.
We have traveled south of the Yangtze River, not as returnees, but as passers-by.