That year I became a transfer student and was assigned to Class 1, Grade 3.
Cheng Yanbai was sitting in the third row of the classroom, smelling faintly of menthol cigarettes. He always sits by the window, always alone. Some say he is unsociable, others say he has a bad temper. But that late autumn night, in that alley without street lights, he put his school uniform on my shoulders and said, "Stop crying."
From that day on, he became my Mr. Ninja Turtle.
Intention: Some people guard you with silence for a whole year, and then leave quietly. They left no names, only the smell of the wind. Many years later you look back and you have nothing. But you know that the reason why you are what you are now is because of that gust of wind.