"I heard you walking through the wind,
But he never looked back.
I can't run to you,
Because I'm still where I am,
Guarding my own unfinished tranquility. "
"I heard you walking through the wind,
It was on a rainy afternoon,
It is the faint fragrance of flowers in the air.
I turn back in the wind,
But I never dared to call you. "
"I heard you walking through the wind,
But the wind was so strong that you didn't hear what I said.
I didn't cross the wind, I just stood side by side quietly,
It's not that I don't want to get closer,
It's because we're used to not being disturbed. "
"I heard you walking through the wind.
I wrote this book to record you.
But you never looked back at me,
So I can only hear you in the wind. "
As long as you want, that "I" and "you" can be anyone.
It can even be interchanged at different times——
The wind is the airflow of the story, so I wrote about the souls that passed each other but did not really collide.
And "hearing" is not possessing, but remembering, sensing, and a silent acknowledgment with love.
I am Lin Qingyue's eyes, Shen Yanhuan's silence, and Xu Tongran's concession.
I am an observer and also a Linqing inkstone maker who grinds it into ink.
And that "I", placed at the beginning of the sentence, does not want to own anyone - it just wants to hear, want to remember, and wants to save.
Use writing to let those who cannot have it, at least resonate in the wind for a moment.
This book doesn't just have plot, it has echoes.
After the wind passes, someone always hears it.
Intention: Use memories to salvage fragments, and use wind as an image to write about growth - those things that cannot be explained are also worth remembering.