After eight years of separation, Han Chen saw Shen Yiyun again on a rainy day.
The city was gray and gloomy, and heavy rain poured down, densely hitting the car windows.
Han Chen sat in the driver's seat, patiently waiting for the two people in the restaurant to finish their meal, and stopped Shen Yiyun in a few words.
Many years ago, he thought about what would happen if the other person saw him again.
Maybe you are ashamed, maybe you are panicked, maybe you are feeling lost.
But he only saw her nonchalant eyes.
He hates such eyes.
Just like starting to hate rainy days at the age of nineteen.
On the first day of my nineteenth year, the corridor smelled of familiar disinfectant water, and a steady drizzle fell outside the glass window.
Han Chen was wearing a thin hospital gown and dialed the phone anxiously.
It took a long time for the other person to pick up the call. He breathed a long sigh of relief, suppressed his impatience, and talked a lot by himself.
At the end, he blinked his sour eyes and couldn't help but choke:
"Shen Yiyun, why don't you speak? Do you know? I might..."
But he only heard the other party's cold and calm reply:
"Han Chen, your matter has nothing to do with me."
[Memory and reality run parallel.
Motto: Love never ends.