"Zhe Ming, I'm so cold."
The evening wind in winter made Xu Yuan shiver, and her teeth chattered as she talked to the person on the phone.
But the man on the other end of the phone said impatiently, "Really, it's none of my business."
Xu Yuan held back from crying, "My parents don't want me anymore, so you don't want me too?"
——Didi, she responded with the sound of hanging up the phone.
Her only hope in the world was shattered as the phone hung up.
Five years later, one day by chance, Cui Zheming was helping Xu Nian tidy up his room when he suddenly came across a well-preserved small wooden box.
When I opened it, I found a pile of envelopes gathering dust inside.
Cui Zheming has no habit of peeking into other people's privacy, but there is an inexplicable belief that drives him to open it.
He opened the first letter, and inside was a girl's adolescent love written in neat handwriting.
And Cui Zheming discovered that the person writing the letter was actually himself.
Each of these ninety-nine letters tells of her love for him.
But the signature under each letter is,
——Xu Yuanbi.
Intention: To express my thoughts about him