When the first mist condensed on the window, I wrote your last name.
The fingertips traced the cold glass, and the dense water marks of the word "" shone slightly in the morning light. Just like the action I practiced repeatedly over the years - write your name before the fog dissipates, and then erase it hastily before the classmates enter the door.
It wasn't until the graduation day that I finally had "Jiang Chi" crawling all over the glass window. But when your figure really appeared at the classroom door, I wiped out the last complete word "Chi" in a panic. Just like our story, there is always a complete end.
Concept: Eternity of unfinished beauty