On a rainy night when she was sixteen years old, Xin Qing met an angel. He was as lonely as the night and as bright as fireworks. Heavy rains and rainy nights, with the company of angels, the raindrops are as beautiful as flowers.
Xia Yu turned her head and looked at Xin Qing quietly without saying a word.
"I think, you are not the God of Rain, how can you control the wind and rain. So I think it is not that there have been more rainy days, but that I have become more concerned about rainy days." Xin Qing smiled, feeling a little bitter.
"You don't seem to be getting wet in the rain anymore." Xin Qing looked at him and said funny.
Xia Yu smiled and said nothing. The two were silent for a while, and Xia Yu suddenly looked at Yu and said seriously: "Xin Qing, you..."
"I like it. I like rain the most, and Xia Yu the most." Xin Qing spoke before Xia Yu finished speaking, "No matter how many times you ask me, I will always give the same answer, and it will never change."
When I was sixteen, I was lucky to have met you; when I was seventeen, I prayed not to lose you.
A rainy season, a youth. Rain or shine.