"Shen Yanzhi, my eraser has gone to your place." The young man lowered his eyes and picked up the eraser, and rubbed his fingertips over the crooked scratches on the eraser - that was the wound she made when she was in the third grade, holding up a utility knife and vowing to "carve a lasting friendship", but he had to bandage her wound for a whole week.
"Shen Yanzhi, how do you solve this problem?" She lay beside his draft book, and the Tanghua hairband at the end of her hair swept over the function formula he was checking. Without stopping, he drew a crooked rabbit in the corner of the draft paper - that was her exclusive mark. From picking up the rabbit bag that was blown away by the wind in kindergarten, to hiding the comic books confiscated by the teacher for her in high school, his pampering has long been deeply embedded in the lines of time.
In the spring of my graduation year, Tang flowers rustled into the inkstone pond.
She stood on tiptoe and brushed away the petals for him, but she didn't see the red on the tips of the young man's ears - just as she never knew, there were unspoken words hidden under every flat Tanghua specimen in his textbook:
You wrote into my life theorem earlier than all formulas.
Concept: Love is not a moment of passion, but a long-term companionship that strengthens each other.