I saw Zhang Xiaofan again at a class reunion half a year ago. Seven years have passed quietly on everyone's faces, but Zhang Xiaofan still has the look of a boy. The ink-colored hair was neatly trimmed, and the warm smile still lingered on her lips.
If the years had not left slight traces on our faces, perhaps I would have thought that time had really reversed, and I saw the handsome and beautiful young man seven years ago again.
Zhang Xiaofan, it's been seven years, how are you?
Zhang Xiaofan, I have a thousand words to say, how should I speak...
Intention: