In the midsummer of 1999, two-and-a-half-year-old Su Wan moved into Huaishu Lane in the south of the city and met three-and-a-half-year-old Lu Yu. From the day when watermelon juice stained the corners of their mouths, their lives became entangled.
This is a long scroll about childhood sweethearts spanning nearly thirty years. There is no system, no golden fingers, no bloody villains, just two ordinary people who have repeatedly confirmed over the years and finally decided to choose each other's life.
During her childhood, he was her most stable supporter. She was afraid of the dark, but he held her hand and said "not afraid"; she broke her knee, and he squatted down to blow on the wound; she had frostbite, and he handed her a tube of frostbite ointment on time every winter. In the spring, summer, autumn and winter in the alleys, building blocks, sweet-scented osmanthus, snowmen, and notes stack up to form the clumsiest and most sincere companionship.
When I was young, a two-way secret love quietly took root. Across the classroom, the crowd, and the unspeakable throbbing, no one dared to speak first. Everyone was busy throughout their youth, and the two of them secretly liked each other throughout their youth.
Later he went to Beijing and she stayed in Jiangcheng. A distance of more than a thousand kilometers separates the city but cannot separate people's hearts. Text messages, phone calls, notes, ginkgo leaves, they said one sentence in every possible way - I am here, I am waiting for you.
From a different school to a different place, from ambiguity to determination, from youth to maturity. The pressure of going to school, climbing the career ladder, renting a house, anxiety before marriage and complete peace of mind - every step is real and practical.
It's not the excitement of love at first sight, but the irreplaceability of thirty years of steady progress. He was indifferent to the outside world, but he was relaxed towards her; she was sensitive and lacked love, but she was firm towards him. He habitually told the truth silently, but she learned to respond blatantly.
Year after year, the evening breeze belongs to you. The rest of my life is yours too.
This is a love letter written over thirty years, to everyone who believes in long-term love.
Intention: In this fast-paced era, I want to write about a "slow" emotion - not the excitement of love at first sight, not the drama of reunion, but the time one person spends thirty years saying the words "I am" to take root in another person's heart.
The true meaning of writing about childhood sweethearts: It is not a destined romance, but two ordinary people still choose to be determined after countless hesitations, countless temptations, and countless retreats over the long years. Childhood is a secret, youth is a secret love, adulthood is a responsibility, and old age is a stay together. Love is different at every stage, but the direction never changes.
Write about growth itself: girls move from dependence to independence, from fear of losing to daring to have. The boy moved from silence to expression, from habitual forbearance to blatant preference. It's not about who saves the other, but about growing up side by side to become a better version of ourselves.
What I want to say in the end is - the longest love in the world is not a momentary heartbeat. It is that after repeated confirmations year after year, you still choose the same person, walk the same road, and blow the same evening breeze.