When spring snow meets wildfire, the heavy rain contains evidence of twenty-three types of heartbeats
The heavy rain turned the neon lights into flowing amber, and when the clouds crashed into the barber shop, Jiang Ye was wiping his dissecting scissors with his wrist tattooed with a blue bird. The dark red thorns spreading behind the ears of the silver-haired boy pierced the water mist, and the cross pendant swayed across the soaked collar of her school uniform - this was the fateful first meeting between the top student in a key middle school and "the silver madman" in street rumors.
"How dare a good student come to a place like this to take shelter from the rain?" His mint-filled sneer was mixed with the roar of the hairdryer, while his bony hands held the back of her trembling neck through the towel. The heat carried the scent of cedar into her collar, and Yunzhu saw in the mirror that the tips of her ears were glowing with the color of sunset, and the shadow of the fluttering wings of the bluebird on the young man's wrist was passing over her trembling throat bone where the pearl hairpin was locked.
Everyone said that Jiang Ye was a poison-quenching knife, an alien who half dropped out of school to run a barber shop, and an abandoned son of the family. But no one knew that he would pick up stray kittens on rainy nights and comb them with his rose-dyed fingertips; no one even discovered the faded candy wrappers he locked in a glass jar, each with the latitude and longitude coordinates written on them - the lighthouse that his mother had promised to take him to see before she died.
The first crack in Yunzhu's twenty-year disciplined life began when Jiang Ye leaned over and played with her pearl hairpin. The gun cocoon in the boy's palm brushed against her waist, and the love words he spoke were sharper than surgical scissors: "Little white rabbit, didn't your mother teach you? Good children smell..." The tip of his nose touched the end of her soaked hair, "What drives wild dogs crazy the most."
Concept: Perhaps the so-called love is nothing more than an illusory dream, and the turbulent river and gentle clouds can only embrace each other in dreams.