It was autumn, the nights were slowly getting longer, and the wind was slightly chilly. Tang Ye sniffed and wrapped his coat tighter. Thinking back to what Da Fei said just now, "Brother Ye, I really don't understand you. Why didn't you confess your love for Jiang Cheng back then?" Tang Ye lit a cigarette and lay on the fence of the bridge bank. The cigarette wick burned quickly until it burned his fingers. "Ha, there's no reason. If there is, it's because he was in the third year of high school, because he was so brilliant, because he was a boy... I am also a boy, because he didn't like me." Tang Ye's voice became smaller and smaller, until only he heard the last sentence.