Some people say that youth is a sour orange.
If you pick them too early, your mouth will be full of astringency. When it was finally ripe, it fell to the ground again and I couldn't pick it up again.
The youth of Luan Zhuqi is the sourest orange.
When she was seventeen, she pushed a boy far away. Because when he said he liked her, she didn't believe him. Because while he was waiting for her to respond, she pretended not to understand. Because she was too proud at that time, so proud that she refused to even look back.
She thought he would always be there. She thought there was still plenty of time. She thought that those unspoken words would one day be spoken properly.
Until he was really gone.
On the day she transferred to another school, Luan Zhuqi sat on the steps beside the playground and watched the sky change from blue to gray, and then from gray to black. Not a single tear fell.
She felt like she had won. Winning a war that no one even knew existed.
But no one can tell what happened next.
Perhaps it was late at night when she had insomnia that she looked through the deleted and recovered chat records on her old phone - he spoke first in each one, and at the end of each one, she did not reply.
Maybe she bought an orange when she passed by a fruit stall. When she bit it, she frowned because of the sourness. But she suddenly remembered that that winter, he handed her an orange and said with a smile: "It's very sweet, you try it."
She tried.
But at that time, she didn't taste the sweetness.
Luan Zhuqi later ate a lot of oranges, some were sweet, some were sour, and some were astringent. But there is no one like the one he handed over when he was seventeen years old.
Not because that orange is so special. It's because the person who handed the oranges is no longer here.
Some people say that youth is a sour orange.
Luan Zhuqi thought that she probably mistook the sweetest one for the sour one and threw it away.
Intention: Youth is a compulsory course that is only realized in hindsight