That day, I was sitting in Costa, waiting for Xiaoke. Bored, I looked outside and saw a figure that looked just like the boy in my memories. He wore a blue coat, his hair was messy, and he stood straight with a relaxed posture, his eyes gazing listlessly ahead. I could even picture him turning around, as if I'd imagined it countless times. His languid, irritating drawl, the distance he kept that seemed almost deliberate despite his casual manner.
It was just the right time, when the crowds were thinning out. Warm light filled the window, and I saw my reflection in the glass. The bangs I'd accidentally cut, hanging over my eyebrows, lay flat against my forehead, silly-looking yet unexpectedly fitting.
I remember a boy who suddenly appeared on the classroom windowsill on a day with weather just as lovely, smiling as he asked in a laid-back voice, "Hey, reading here again?"
Qiao Ruo'an
I accidentally found this article. The writing is really good, but I didn't have the desire to read it. When I saw the time of your last update, I thought you must have broken your promise. This article is not a story with a beginning and an end. And I happened to read your article, which is also my honor.