Lin Zhixia has secretly liked Zhou Yanbai in the back row since she was in high school.
She wrote down his habit of turning pens, the smell of laundry detergent on his school uniform, and the way he crossed the finish line when running 1,500 meters, but she never dared to say a word. The only interaction was a black folding umbrella he handed over on a rainy day; the only thought left was the note that was stuffed into her book at some point: "Are you reading?"
She pretended not to see it, and he never asked again.
After the college entrance examination, everyone went their separate ways. Many years later, she dug out the note, and the handwriting had faded, and she suddenly understood - it turned out that he had seen her quietly somewhere.
This is a story about secret love and lateness. There is no separation between life and death, only the regret of "just say it" in youth. But regret is not a tragedy, it is growing up.
Intention: I hope you and I are at the best age and don't say it's too late to say we love each other.