In a humid and rainy town at the age of seventeen, sycamore leaves fell all over the classroom windowsill.
Shen Yubai and I are each other's only quiet place in the noisy crowd. He was a cool top student who was firmly ranked at the top of the list. He would block the scorching sun by the window for me, quietly push the hot pen to my desk, and spend several nights sorting out three years of wrong questions.
He planned our journey away from the small town, and was sure that the long years would slowly heal my frail and sickly body. But growth is a silent diversion. He rushes to the long road ahead, while I am trapped in the old place full of memories.
There were no quarrels or misunderstandings. One of us was yearning for the distance and the other was nostalgic for the past. Before the college entrance examination, we let go of our hands that had been together for several years with a tacit understanding.
From then on, the autumn rain fell every year, and he lived in peace and smoothness in the south, and had a complete and open life. He will never know that in the wet and cold winter of that year, I deliberately turned around and said goodbye, hiding the long-lasting love that I had never expressed to my mouth. The most sincere and unreserved love of youth is forever fixed at the age of seventeen at the end of midsummer.
Intention: Growth will always usher in parting, and the tenderness that accompanies it will eventually become the background of life. Accepting regrets is also a required course for growth. Those preferences that are cherished in youth will warm the years of walking alone for a long time.