Missing You When Summer Comes

On the fifteenth day of the seventh month, the words “Anniversary” appeared in my phone’s notes. The note said that today was our anniversary, my Xu Zhijun. I looked at my phone. I was in the middle of a busy district, but in an instant, I fell silent. I’d set this reminder last year. If our anniversary is X, then in the years to come, at X+1, X+2, all the way to X+N, you’ll no longer be there.