When the Equator Holds on to Snowflakes

Song Wencheng shifted closer to Xu Miaoyu. Yet the distance between their hearts seemed unchanged: he was born on the Equator, where warmth abounded, while she grew up in the polar regions, beneath skies filled with snow. They had searched every corner of the world, but remained impossibly far apart, as if their paths would never cross in this lifetime. The Equator cannot hold on to snowflakes, and hatred will never make room for love.

Scene: Beside the platform stood a dim streetlamp, faintly illuminating its outline. The iron bench was covered in rust, and the canopy overhead was riddled with holes and thickly carpeted with moss. Some animal ran across the canopy, its footsteps creaking loudly. Rainwater pooled in the grooves and was kicked loose, dripping through the holes. Xu Miaoyu hurried to move left and accidentally bumped into Song Wencheng.

He instinctively shifted left to make room for her. From a distance, two figures, one red and one black, stood shoulder to shoulder beneath the dilapidated platform. The red figure stood in the middle, while half of the black figure stood outside the shelter. The cold rain beat against his body, but he remained silent.

The sound of the rain was like a woman keeping lonely vigil in a fortress, grieving and lost, quiet and desolate, gazing longingly toward a distant figure.