Seventh Response

Seven years ago, classroom. She wrote in her homework book: "Teacher, I like you." I replied with four words: "Irregular." Then I left. Seven years later, the bidding will take place. She sat at Party A's table and looked at me with a smile: "Teacher Ji, long time no see." That contract said: Emotional counseling once a week until Party A is satisfied. I asked, "What do you want?" She said: "What you owed me back then can be paid back slowly now." "What do you owe?" "You owe me an answer. You owe me seven years." Intention: Seven years ago, she used the words "non-standard" to push away the possibility of having a heartbeat for the first time in her life. Seven years later, she discovered that the real norm is never in the rules, but in whether you dare to face your own heart. This is a story about "those who run away learn to stop, and those who wait learn to reach out". It took them seven years to understand: some mirrors are broken, not for you to throw them away, but for you to see clearly - those cracks are where light comes in.