The first time I met you was on a hot summer day, when cicada cries filled the entire campus. When I slowly raised my head, I saw your red cheeks. You said you had a bit of heatstroke, and I snickered. We met very simply, but we didn't know where to start. I thought you had planned it, but your cheeks turned red every time you saw me. How could I guess what you meant to me? That summer when I was seventeen or eighteen years old was not only hot. In the scorching sun, there are not only the chirping of cicadas, but also your red cheeks and hot palms. Time flies so fast. In the blink of an eye, youth no longer goes back and forth. We all go our separate ways. Whether you miss me or forget yourself is unknown. But I can't forget you. I have dreamed of meeting you thousands of times. I never thought it would be the last time I see you. Qi Sichen, the summer of 25 years old... It's so cold. Can you... Hold my hand again, I miss you so much.
Intention: The breeze and the bright moon make me miss each other from afar. Missing each other from afar, the grass is only green, just to listen to the song of flying phoenixes
