On the rooftop of Xianghu High School, the evening breeze carries the breath of early summer.
Chi Qihe leaned in that deserted corner, with a yellowed notebook in his hand, and a line of small words written on the title page——
"Every rose once believed in spring."
He didn't know what he was waiting for.
Perhaps he is waiting for a belated truth, waiting for someone who will never come back, or perhaps just waiting for this immortal body to finally stop one day.
Before the age of seven, his world was complete.
Then, everything fell apart that evening
Chi Qihe didn't cry.
He just suddenly understood one thing - some winters start at home.
Chi Qihe stood outside the door, pressing his palms against the cold iron door.
He thought, one day, I will tear down this door.
He has special powers.
Immortal and immortal, arrayed by thorns.
Time has left no trace on his body, but the pain has not diminished even an inch.
A seventeen-year-old face, a seven-hundred-year-old soul.
Every rose has its own flowering period.
Some people wither when they are in full bloom, and some people bloom when they wither.
Chi Qihe's flowers have been uprooted since he was seven years old.
He didn't know if he could bloom again.
But he knew that someone had watered him, and someone had planted a seed for him in this wasteland.
This is a story about revenge and redemption, immortality and farewell, and the piecing together of broken people.
Multiple if lines, multiple possibilities.
The only thing that remains unchanged is that every rose is fighting against decay in its own way.
Intention: Write to every flower that still blooms in the ruins.
