Autumn is creeping up the window lattice.
Qin Jiushi propped up his chin and stared out the window. The row of ginkgo trees in front of the teaching building looks like someone splashed heavy gold paint on it overnight. The edges of the leaves have curled up slightly, quivering in the cool wind. Occasionally they break free from the branches and swirl down, like old letters that no one has signed. There is a vaguely bitter smell floating in the air, which is unique to autumn and is the slightly astringent smell that leaves give off when they say goodbye. It has only been two weeks since the second semester of high school, and the faces around me are still unfamiliar and alienated. The noise between classes is blurred through an invisible membrane...
Intention: Happiness is when you are by my side when I look back.