He folded a jar full of paper stars, two hundred in total.
He said, one hundred and ninety-nine, is to wish Cen Pu a smooth road ahead and peace every year.
As for the last one, he didn't say what it was, but his fingertips rested on that star for a long time, and there was a deep and quiet light in his eyes that Cen Pu couldn't understand.
What that light is, some people still don't understand.
It was like a thawing river in spring, gently flowing over the bank of Cen Pu's heart, and silently carrying some kind of warmth that he could not capture, it went straight to the distance.
He only felt an empty space in his heart, and when the wind passed through, there was a gurgling echo.
Later, Cen Pu saw the light in his eyes go out bit by bit like a burnt candle.
He stood at the edge of his world, unable to reach out or make a sound.
What surged in my heart was nothing but regret. I regret that I didn't ask him out that day, and I regret that I didn't hold him in my arms at that time.
Luo Dan finally left, quietly, like dew evaporating in the early morning.
Cen Pu froze in place and didn't feel any pain at first.
Until a certain moment, sadness was like a belated tsunami, overwhelming me.
He wanted to cry, but his eyes were as dry as a cracked river bed, and not a single tear could be squeezed out. It turns out that the ultimate sadness is silent and depleted even by tears.
But Cen Pu saw Luo Dan again.
In the trance of morning light, or in the afterimage of a dream.
He stood there, waving slightly to Cen Pu as before, with a faint smile on his lips.
This time, he didn't hesitate.
I ran over, exhausted all my strength for the rest of my life, and finally hugged him tightly in my arms.
His figure was hollow, but his embrace had a real warmth.
Never let go again.
Let the river flow eastward, let the stars disappear, let it be reality or illusion.
Concept: The value of friendship
