On the day Lin Sichen was diagnosed, the doctor said he had at most one year left.
He didn't tell anyone, and went to school as usual, ate as usual, and sat by the window to do homework as usual. Only occasionally when I coughed, I would lower my head and cover my mouth. When the pain passed, I would put my hands down as if nothing had happened.
My deskmate Qin Han only showed up in the second week of school. He came quietly, like a directionless wind. He sat down next to Lin Sichen, glanced at him sideways, and said, "You don't look good." Then he bought him a bottle of warm water and placed it on the corner of the table without asking any more questions.
Qin Han never left since then. He accompanies Lin Sichen to class, eats with him, and walks with him on the way to school. He would pat Lin Sichen's back gently when he coughed, tilt his umbrella to Lin Sichen's side on rainy days, and send a message late at night saying, "You can come to me if you can't sleep." His approach was gentle and firm, like an anchor that had been waiting in the distance for a long time, landing slowly and accurately at the end of Lin Sichen's route.
Lin Sichen thought this was a gift from God in his last year. Until he saw the countdown on Qin Han's phone - accurate to seconds, with a date written on it, which was the last day he had left. He finally knew that Qin Han knew that he would die from the beginning. He has been accompanying him through the last part of the journey, not in a hurry, crying or making trouble, like a person who has long been prepared to say goodbye.
One year. Three hundred and sixty-five days. Qin Han accompanied him to the last step, and then gently let go of his hand before the finish line. What Lin Sichen wants is not a story without an ending. He just wanted someone to watch the spring with him during that year.
"Qin Han, you knew I was going to die, why did you come again?"
"Because I want to spend your last year with you."
——BE. Sad booking. The moment the countdown started, they were already saying goodbye.
Intention: Meeting is a countdown from the beginning, but love is not