——In the humid spring of 2012, with a drizzle of rain falling, Zhu Yan was sitting on the steps, with an open book of "The Little Prince" on her lap.
Someone sat gently next to her, smiling deeply.
"What a coincidence, you like it too?"
——In 2013, when the leaves fell for the first time in autumn, she sat on a park bench in frustration after having just had a quarrel with her mother.
Someone held out a hand in front of her with a black rose.
"Happy birthday, Zhu Yan."
——In 2014, the cicadas were chirping in the summer, and the college entrance examination had just ended. Zhu Yan held a black rose and met him for the last time in front of the cemetery.
Her black rose boy, with summer on his pillow, has slept in the silent time since then.
Intention: Regret and beauty