The wind in the back row of the first grade classroom has been blowing for three years, blowing through the corners of his school uniform and the side profile of Xia Shihan's never-ending sketch on the paper. She thought that as long as she wrote long enough, the name would become hers; she thought that as long as she pursued it closely enough, the light would look back at her. But summer will end, the cicadas will stop chirping, and the road will split into two at some casual intersection. He goes to the left and she goes to the right. No one is right or wrong, it's just that it's time to leave. She put the three years of worries into the bottom of the drawer, thought about it, and wrote an ending to the story: "Zhuang Boran, I don't regret having liked you. But that's it.
The story stops in the summer when he was fifteen years old. The boy went to a far away place. Not all crushes need to be serialized.
Intention: There is no need to feel sad for someone. You have to stand still for that person for so long. Love yourself and do your best. When you love someone, you must learn to let go.