In a certain unchanging field, An Suzhi once described a scene where there was only one identical person, hoping to meet him. When the other person came closer, he became cautious and lowered his eyebrows. Sometimes he secretly followed Xi Hanxun, shuttled between teaching buildings, and walked on the lawn paths. The jacarandas cast an ambiguous and gentle but astringent touch, and the quiet dust was noisy in the light and shadow. The morning that should have been silent became indelible in her meaningless repeated descriptions word for word, and it bloomed in her eyes again in a trance.
Some wishes come true, and some ends up just being a story. Knowing this well, she had already made up all the memories with Xi Hanxun into stories in her heart. She never mentioned him when she was young, and talked about him for comfort when she was old. The bitter love she once had when she was young, the obscure emotions hesitating between getting and not getting, and the trivial clues that are forgotten and blurred will be restored one by one. They will all be polished over the years and completed through her mouth.
Even if they are not together, there will be a complete absence in her story.
Once upon a time, she really thought so.
When I was young, I met someone, fell in love with someone, and waited for someone. This is the story I want to tell you.
Conception: