Wen Nian first met Lin Zhiyu on the first day of their second year of high school.
The transfer student sat in the back row with her head lowered, like a wildflower beaten down by wind and rain.
No one knew that the quiet girl had half of a yellowed old ruler in her pocket. Wen Nian had snapped it in two and given it to her when she was seven.
Wen Nian never imagined that the little girl who had cried as she accepted the ruler would return to her life in such a sorry state.
Lin Zhiyu lived in a cramped apartment block on the outskirts of the city. Her father was a drunk who beat and berated her at the slightest excuse.
Wen Nian lived in a villa halfway up a hill. Her parents were abroad most of the year, and the house was so empty you could hear the echoes.
One was a dandelion struggling to survive in the ruins; the other, a lonely sentinel in an empty city.
Wen Nian made the first move, bringing her lunch, walking her home, and shielding her from cruel taunts.
Lin Zhiyu did everything she could to keep her distance, afraid her darkness would taint this ray of light.
Until one rainy night, Lin's father blocked the school gate with a liquor bottle, and Wen Nian stepped in front of her, getting her arm cut by the glass.
Lin Zhiyu held her and cried, but Wen Nian smiled and said,
