The Secret of Page Seven

Completed. Extras ovo will be updated from time to time. Reading guide: Cold outside and warm inside, careful kitten vs straight-ball arrogant puppy A sweet story, "almost" free of abuse. A man chases a woman, and they meet again after a long absence. Time starts from 2022 —— Demining (please proceed with caution): There will be a small number of BL lines in the later plots, purely to promote the development of the main line, and the proportion is very small, but readers who are sensitive to BL elements please pay attention. Readers who cannot accept the years of waiting/unrequited love, as the female protagonist does not remember the male protagonist at all in the early stages, should proceed with caution. Readers who mind that "the male protagonist pays obviously more than the female protagonist" should pay attention. The heroine experiences her father's serious illness and hurriedly transfers to another school. In the middle of the plot, the male and female protagonists have been separated for many years. Large timeline span + atypical campus literature —— "If it were you, would you remember everything that happened four years ago?" Zhou Zhaohuai's answer has always been only one: yes. Always will. She transferred school and left in the midsummer of that year, and the unsent letter on her desk gradually turned yellow over the years. Four years later, during the summer vacation before the first year of high school, I was in the library in the city center, in the sunlight leaking between the bookshelves. She tiptoed to reach for the copy of "You Are April in the World". He stood behind her, his heart beating faster than before. She held the book in her arms, thanked him, and scanned his face with only the courtesy of a stranger. It doesn't matter. He chuckled inwardly. Then start all over again. God was indeed merciful and they became tablemates: "My new deskmate, please give me some advice." "Little Ice Cube, please give me some advice." That night when the meteor passed by, he was about to speak when his friend interrupted him. It's okay, there's next time. But he didn't expect that the next time they met would be five years later. During her sophomore year of high school, her father was seriously ill and she left in a hurry. The phone was lost on the road and they lost contact. He looked for her like crazy, and later heard from his classmates that she had gone to Beijing. He worked hard to get into a university in Beijing, but found out that she got into Nancheng. They just make one mistake and then another. He didn't dare to disturb her, but one sleepless night, he accidentally browsed her Weibo account. She posted about her daily life: sweet and sour pork ribs in the cafeteria, sunset in the library, forgetting to bring an umbrella on a rainy day... He read them one by one. From his freshman year to his senior year, he never dared to leave a like. Five years later, he took over his family's company and stayed in Beijing. One ordinary afternoon, HR placed a stack of resumes on his desk. He opened it casually, and then his whole body froze. He had been looking at the person in the photo for five full years. At the beginning of winter that year when they reunited, he took her back to Ningcheng No. 2 Middle School. The bell for evening self-study has long since stopped ringing, and the street lights in the playground are still the same as before. When the snowflakes fell, he stopped. "Wen Shuangyan, I like you." She looked at him, her eyes slowly turning red, but she curved her mouth: "Zhou Zhaohuai, do you know which season I like?" He was stunned for a moment, then smiled. How could you not know? She loves spring, the melting snow in spring, the first flowers in spring, and all the tender things in spring. "Spring." She stood on tiptoes, the tip of her nose almost touching his. "Well... So, you are my spring." Snow fell on his shoulders, on the top of her hair, and on the hands they finally held together. The letter that was not sent in the summer when I was twelve years old finally received a reply in the winter when I was twenty-four years old. Intention: frost and snow share the same warmth, and words and locust trees share the same warmth