Jiangcheng No. 2 Middle School, a sultry September afternoon. The rebellious and flamboyant red-haired girl Yu Wang and the quiet and timid transfer student Wen Lingqing met on the sidelines of the basketball court because of an accident.
Yu Wang is seventeen years old, comes from a wealthy family and is an excellent basketball player. Her red curly hair is her most eye-catching symbol. She doesn't seem to care about anything, but actually learns how to protect others earlier than anyone else. Wen Lingqing is seventeen years old, with excellent grades, quiet and reserved, with long dark hair and always cautious eyes, hiding the guilt and trauma accumulated for many years after her father died in a car accident.
An orange-flavored candy brought them closer. The gaze on the side of the basketball court, the hook under the fireworks on the riverside, the collapsed embrace in the holly bush - from meeting to getting to know each other, from testing to getting closer, the two people found the softest light in each other when they were seventeen years old.
But Wen Lingqing didn't dare to gamble. She was afraid of relying on others, afraid of becoming a disaster, and afraid that anyone who was good to her would be destroyed by her existence like her father. Yu Wang mustered up the courage to confess, but she chose to retreat. Immediately afterwards, her mother died of illness, and the last person who loved her in the world left. She returned to her empty home, used the medicine she had saved for a long time, and ended her seventeen-year-old life.
That year, there was a rare spring snow in Jiangcheng.
When Yu Wang broke through the door, he only saw a cold body that would not open its eyes again. For the next ten years, every March she would go to the grave and place a bouquet of daisies. Insomnia, smoking addiction, and basketball that she no longer touches have become the clearest marks in her body.
She thought that person had stayed in that heavy snow forever.
Ten years later, Yu Wang was twenty-eight years old, the youngest and most inaccessible technological upstart in Jiangcheng's business community. The red hair has not changed, but the whole person is like a knife in a sheath, indifferent and distant, and the smoke never leaves his hand. Insomnia has tortured her for ten years. Every year on March 3rd, she would go to the cemetery and speak for a while to the stone engraved with "Wen Lingqing".
What she didn't know was that there was another hidden meaning in that "death" - Wen Lingqing was saved. She survived, but begged doctors to organize a funeral for her because she felt that living would only be a burden to everyone. In the next ten years, she changed cities and numbers, treated her mental illness alone in a strange place, and lifted herself out of the abyss inch by inch through relapses and improvements.
Ten years later, Wen Lingqing returned to Jiangcheng. She wanted to see if the person who said "live a good life for me" had actually eaten the candy. On an ordinary evening by the river, Yu Wang saw the figure from behind who he thought was long gone. Ten years of accumulated longing, anger, and pain all burst through at that moment. She punched the tree, her eyes were red, and she yelled the words she had been waiting for ten years -
"You're not fucking dead? Wen Lingqing, are you not dead?"
Reunion is not about hugs and reconciliation. It's a broken question, a trembling silence, and a long look at each other across a narrow table in the coffee shop. Wen Lingqing finished her ten years of experience sentence by sentence, and Yu Wang sat opposite, going from losing control to calming down, from anger to silence, and finally stood up and walked to the door, turned his back to her and said: "Send the number to Fan Yu."
The door opened, and the spring sunshine from Jiangcheng poured in and fell on the ends of her red hair.
After ten years, the snow finally melted. The man who died in the spring of his seventeenth year opened the door again in the spring of his twenty-seventh year. And inside the door, there was another person waiting.
Intention: The snow will always melt, spring will always come, it doesn't matter if it's a little late.
