The cicadas chirped noisier that summer than any other year. The branches outside the classroom grew wildly, but they could not block the scorching sun.
The afternoon sun sneaks into the classroom through the mottled leaves, casting patches of light and shadow on the desks.
On the podium, the teacher's voice was like a gurgling stream, unhurriedly describing the subtleties of poetry. Shen Zhiyi's eyes wandered to the swaying branches outside the window. The breeze blew by, causing the leaves to rustle, intertwined with the teacher's lecture.
She suddenly came back to her senses and wrote down one stroke at a time on the paper: "I once picked up a beam of light, and now I have returned it to the sun."
The handwriting loomed under the light and shadow, just like the ripples in her heart.
Seven years later, Shen Zhiyi posted a message on Moments
"I got my light back."
Purpose: Always advocate freedom
