Ever since the person who loved to crouch beneath the plane tree and gather petals left, he had grown used to being alone. He skipped class to go out to the suburbs, kept a cold face toward everyone, and even left the flowerpot on his windowsill empty for an entire year. Then Fang Zhou transferred to his school, bringing the scent of sunshine with him. He placed a leaf he'd picked up on the other's textbook, as if gently offering him an unfamiliar warmth.
Fang Zhou was impulsive. He applied to live at school just to be closer to him, remembered that he hated cilantro, and pored over his collection of wrong answers until the pages grew fuzzy, all to find an excuse to talk. Like a tree stretching toward the light, he stubbornly stood by Qi Qiao, no matter how cold his "iceberg" exterior was, chipping away at the cracks little by little with his clumsy, direct affection.
Qi Qiao was awkward. He said, "It's none of your business," but tucked the leaf the other boy gave him into his textbook. He said, "Stop following me," but couldn't help correcting the other boy when he got an answer wrong. The softness hidden beneath his coldness, the concern he deliberately ignored, gradually came to light through their repeated clashes, like the flower replanted on the windowsill, quietly unfurling its petals when no one was looking.
This isn't a story about "saving" someone. It's just two boys, like two trees slowly drawing closer, learning under the moonlight beneath the pagoda tree how to turn "loneliness" into "companionship" in their own ways.
Theme: Inspirational.
