Eighteen-year-old Lu Xingxing came from rural Guizhou and had no hope of entering university, so he went to Shanghai to work and start a business alone. I slept in an eight-square-meter partition, ate every last meal, and met the noble man Chen Yizhou when I was twenty. After three years of hard work, I finally succeeded. In the winter when he was 23 years old, he drove back to his hometown in Guizhou and collided with a car on a snowy night in the mountains. The other person was Shen Xinci, an orthopedic surgeon who was also from Guizhou.
The two added WeChat, and from daily complaints to late-night videos, their feelings for each other gradually grew but they didn't dare to reveal it. Lu Xingxing retreated secretly due to his low self-esteem, while Shen Xinci also buried his love deep in his heart. In autumn, they traveled to Nanjing together and strolled along the long streets covered with sycamore leaves. They didn't talk much and only walked side by side. When he asked about his feelings, he excused himself by saying "play for a few years first", and he swallowed everything he wanted to say with a smile.
When the epidemic broke out, Shen Xinci took the initiative to ask for help in Wuhan. Before leaving, he only said "let's go", and he only replied "hmm". Soon, he died in the line of duty due to infection. A colleague handed him his diary, and the title page said, "I have thought about it for a long time, and decided to write these words down." The first page is the sentence: "Nanjing in autumn, the sycamore leaves fall all over the long streets... The coolness spreads on the shoulders, silently." On the last page, the handwriting has been scrawled so softly, leaving only five words - "Xingxing, I miss you."
After all, he couldn't say that. And he held the diary and cried silently in the courtyard on a winter night in Guizhou.
Intention: He failed to say that sentence after all. And he held the diary and cried silently in the courtyard on a winter night in Guizhou.