City transfer student × small town boy
It was early spring when we first met, and he handed me a green and unseasonable orange.
Later, he was the beginning of all the secrets of my youth, like an incompatible but gentle growing tree. I am the rushing stream in the small town, reckless and sincere, desperately trying to catch up with his shadow.
On the rainy night before we parted ways at the age of seventeen, he kissed me for the first time beside a river lantern flowing down the river. I remembered what he said before, do you know what love is.
I know. I said, seeing the way he looked at me, I knew he didn't believe it from beginning to end.
- I'm not very good at talking either. But I want to say, Sheng Shiyang, if I had known it would hurt, I wouldn't have wanted that green orange.
- I don't want your dogtail grass, I don't want your scratch paper, I don't want the spring with you. That day you knocked on my window and door with an orange that did not belong to this season and a pair of eyes that did not belong to this city, and then in the season that belonged to me, you gave me a bird that did not belong to me.
- It fell at the mouth of my overgrown stream, making my stream alive.
Concept: Youth is an inappropriate poem.
