In the fall of her junior year, Lan Yunyin, who was born in Shujing, returned to her alma mater for an internship at the high school, and reunited with her senior sister Chen Yu, whom she had looked up to from afar when she was young.
In the past, several years of youth separated them, one of them was surrounded by people in the hustle and bustle, and the other was alone in a corner quietly writing questions, and they never had any unnecessary interactions. No one expected that many years later, the two would become classmates and live in the same teachers' dormitory. A desk lamp that stays on for those who come home late, and countless quiet nights where there is no need to deliberately find topics, let the restrained and taciturn Lan Yunyin slowly indulge in Chen Yu's delicate and gentle tenderness.
The heartbeat that had nowhere to put it finally turned into a letter on plain paper, hiding all the straightforward thoughts.
When her winter internship expired and she left the playground filled with morning mist, she never looked back.
But the encounter in autumn will not be the end. The road ahead is long, the seasons rotate, and time will slowly give the answer to all the silence that cannot be said at the moment.
Intent: This is a story about "the silent people learn to speak".
Those words that cannot be spoken at the moment will eventually find their way out at a suitable time as the seasons turn. Not all silence is regret, some silence just hasn't waited for its spring.
The deepest emotions are often quiet. In a world that pursues immediate responses and clear results, there is a kind of gentleness called "not rushing to tell the truth" - not cowardice, not hesitation, but seriousness. Listen carefully, wait carefully, carefully consider a person's name in your heart, and be serious enough not to dare to start rashly. And time will be kind to all serious people. Those words that are swallowed will eventually be seen by the sun one spring.