When Yao Cijing broke the mirror, Tang Wanfeng finally stopped reaching out to hold it back.
They were childhood sweethearts who rolled through the mud together in the alleys. When he was a child, he would pick up the fallen loquats for her one by one and put them back into his pockets, saying, "Buan Feng, from now on you will share half of my things." At that time, there was light in his eyes, reflecting her heartless smile.
Later, the people under the banyan tree left. After entering the campus, Yao Cijing became a cool and self-possessed young man, while Tang Wanfeng was still desperately chasing the figure who had already walked away. She thought that as long as she worked hard enough, she could get back the boy who said he wanted to share half of her world.
Until that summer when the cicadas were hoarse, Yao Cijing looked into her eyes, calmly and decisively: "Tang Wanfeng, don't wait, I am no longer the one who will give you candy."
At that moment, she finally let go of her hand.
No hysterical entanglements, no heart-wrenching goodbyes. She watched him turn around, watching him walk towards the distance that belonged to him. Those sweets about childhood and dreams about campus finally dispersed in the wind.
Many years later, Tang Wanfeng settled in the city he longed for. Occasionally I heard that Yao Cijing was living a good life and became a leader in the eyes of others.
She stood by the window, watching the evening breeze blowing through the treetops, and smiled softly.
It turns out that you don't need to stay to turn the wind, and you don't need to round the mirror to say goodbye.
They have never looked back, but they have slowly grown into the best adults they can be over the long years.
Concept: The wind passes without leaving a trace, and the broken mirror is not round.