At the age of seventeen, it is winter.
The crossbar on the high jump mat was suspended in mid-air. She turned over alone and landed on the mat, with the gray sky above her head. The home was so big that her words echoed, but no one spoke to her. The whereabouts of her mother are unknown, and her father has another family. She is like a forgotten and rusty coin on the windowsill, just sitting there without anyone picking it up.
Then Tanghuai came.
Like the first gust of wind in early spring, wrapped in warmth and moisture, it spreads over her barren winter. Tanghuai is the number one in the city. He is always surrounded by the crowd and laughs. He has braids, peach blossom eyes and a bright smile. She and Wen Ji were in the same class, and would hand over a box of milk, a note, and "see you tomorrow."
Wen Ji didn't know how to catch this. She was used to eating, training, and going home alone. She was used to keeping all "approaches" at a safe distance.
From classmates to friends, from strangers to side by side. For the first time, Wen Ji wanted to run farther for someone, far enough to stand on the same admission notice as her. So the girl who relied on high jump to support all her pride put down the crossbar for Tang Huai and picked up the pen.
Wen Ji couldn't tell when the wind started blowing.
But she knew it was her heart that moved first.
When the monsoon passes, it takes away a long winter, leaving behind a gentleness that finally learns to say "Don't leave."
Tanghuai told her that the monsoon would come back every year.
Wen Ji said, what if you stay——
When the monsoon passes, all things grow.
A long, long time.
Monsoon passes. A gust of wind blew through one person's winter first, and by the time another person noticed it, the isolated island was already covered with spring.
Intention: The best love is not to stop you next to someone. It's the wind that comes and you discover that you can move. The wind has gone and you are on your own way.