The sun was setting during my sophomore year of high school, and a hint of coolness drifted across the laughing and playing figures of the students in the corridor.
The hair beside her ear caressed Linghua's cheek, like the person caressing her heart - he knew she had low blood sugar, so he always kept a few plum candies wrapped in plastic paper in his pocket; he accidentally sprained his ankle when he went downstairs, and he carried her to the infirmary; she was walking home alone from school, but he suddenly appeared on his bicycle, "Linghua, it's not safe in the dark, I'll take you home."
Now he walked toward her in the light accompanied by the scent of lemon soap. With a few twinkling nails in his ears and his smile, it turned out that he had already fallen into her story.
Intention: On a whim