The early morning raindrops made a thin drumbeat on the roof of the teaching building. Daoshu stood at the door of the classroom, the collar of his school uniform still stained with wet rain.
His eyes unconsciously glanced at the second row of the third group. Qian Lin was leaning on the table and drawing something. The mechanical pencil held between his fingertips glowed silver in the morning light.
"Have you seen enough?" Shiqing suddenly appeared from behind and poked his waist with a textbook, "If you look at it again, it will burn holes in the paper."
Daoshu hurriedly looked away, the tips of his ears feeling hot. Since the resumption of school, this scene has been repeated for seven days - every morning reading class, he would always take the opportunity of packing his schoolbag to secretly observe the butterfly wing shadow cast by the hanging eyelashes of the boy at the table, the force with which his knuckles turn white when he holds the pen, or the line of the back of his neck that suddenly tightens when the teacher calls on him.
Until yesterday's lunch break, Qian Lin was lying on the table to take a nap, and his sleeves fell down to reveal the silver butterfly bracelet on his wrist.
Daoshu's breathing suddenly stopped - it was a bracelet he gave to a strange boy on the top floor of the hospital when he was thirteen. The jagged pattern on the butterfly's wings was exactly the same as another bracelet he had hidden deep in the drawer.
Purpose: redemption