In the second grade of high school, Jiang Yu and I were assigned to the same table. He doesn't like to talk, but he always helps me put away the scattered test papers silently, and takes a shady seat for me in physical education class. I hid the letter full of joy and confession for a whole year, but I still couldn't send it out.
After the college entrance examination, after dinner, I watched him pack his schoolbag and walk away, completely giving up his thoughts. The universities went to different cities and never met again. Five years later, we met by chance at a bookstore in his hometown. He first mentioned those days, saying that at that time he always deliberately slowed down his speed in answering questions, just to wait for me to turn around and ask for advice. It turns out that the hidden tenderness of a young man is never one-way, and we have missed an entire passionate and timid youth in vain.
Intention: youth