When did it stop raining? It was when Shen Jinan bumped into those eyes that he was startled to realize that the light had broken.
The chirping of cicadas clings to the September parasol leaves. When the roommate held the physics exercise book to his chest for the third time in a daze, the name Lin Yunlun exploded gently in the tight air of the dormitory along with the bubbles of carbonated drinks. The girl's pen tip was hanging on the draft paper, and the ink stained a small cloud next to the function image.
Later, on many autumnal equinoxes, she would always meet that tall figure from behind on Wutong Road. The corners of the black and white school uniform were ruffled by the wind, like the moon that was always half a step away from catching up. Until one day, the ink on the notes fell from the fingers and was caught by the slender fingers - the sun suddenly became very hot, so hot that the paper handed back was wet.
It turns out that love grows like this: a corner of the exercise book is blown up by the wind when the body is turned around, the footsteps suddenly lighten at the corner of the corridor, and the fingertips briefly overlap when putting away the homework. She had counted the chalk snow thrown up by him when he wiped the blackboard seventeen times. She remembered that he raised his hand to block the light leaking from the corridor for her, and she would not forget the shadow cast by his eyelashes under his eyes when he lowered his eyes, like a butterfly resting on the yellowing title page of a poetry album.
Many years later, Shen Jinan can still smell the scent of that autumn, mixed with ink, chalk dust and the scent of soap locust on the boy's sleeves, growing wildly into a golden sea of ginkgo in his memory.
Intention: Enduring
