To an Oranian

[Reposting an old story · Light and simple] [Authorized for publication in simplified Chinese print; updates will be announced on Weibo] [Author's personal Weibo: Shiqingtu and Sangyu]

I wrote this story under another pen name. The entire story is free to read, with no paid chapters.

She was a lemon in a glass jar on a summer day, a green plum soaked in brine, a prose poem scattered across the floor, and a pair of bare feet lazily treading on gravel.

Her "old best friend" asked Xu Congzhou when she had fallen in love with Duan Yi. She said it was probably once, after they were done, when she had dozed off for a while before getting up. She saw Duan Yi, casual, absent-minded, and prone to procrastination, sewing a button back onto the shirt she had torn.

We are all Oranians. We have no choice but to fall in love, and yet we do so without even realizing it.

We are nothing but clients of prostitutes, utterly devoted yet with our hearts elsewhere.

Duan Yi x Xu Congzhou

One-on-one romance, both virgins.

Unambitious rich playboy + X + beautiful, strong, and miserable "scumbag" photographer

Oran is a place mentioned in The Plague.

When Camus introduces the city of Oran at the beginning of the book, he writes: "In Oran, as elsewhere, everyone lacks time and thought, and thus has no choice but to fall in love without even realizing it."

Theme: I want to sing you a song