The breeze blew through the treetops, and the cicadas were singing in the treetops. It was another school season. It seemed to be the same as before, but it seemed to be different.
The start of the first year of high school was obviously a new environment and a new beginning, but everything gave Wu Qiu a vague sense of familiarity.
Wu Qiu: Have we met before?
Gao Yihong: No, absolutely not!
Wu Qiu: Is it an illusion?
... N a long time later
Wu Qiu: You said you haven't seen it before? !
Intention: I like it, why is it wrong?