Ding Xiaoxi's Guangyuan Plan

In my memory, I was still a child, running through that long, narrow alley. The brass key around my neck bounced against my chest with a clear, bright jingle. Keeping time with its rhythm, I rounded the huge tree with its crooked trunk, crossed the construction site, and could just make out the little balcony, weathered and half-hidden by ivy. I'd shout toward it, "Hey, I'm here!" Then a pair of short, chubby, white legs would come running out onto the balcony. She would emerge from the shadow behind the ivy and wave to me, delighted. At that moment, I felt like a fearless prince in a fairy tale, galloping up on a white horse with my sword raised. She was the princess I had to save: beautiful, fragile, and saddled with an evil stepmother. So she couldn't do without me. Without me, her world would be nothing but darkness. I thought this with such pride. The next moment, she'd appear at the door, her chubby face beaming with a goofy grin. I'd take her hand and walk with her to school. All the way there, our fingers stayed intertwined, swinging back and forth. We walked that road for ten years, from childhood until we were no longer children. An old story I wrote two years ago. It took ages to dig it up. Abandoned, unfinished. Theme: