Library

In the afternoon when a rainstorm was approaching, Ye Tinglan turned over the faded cowhide notebook while sorting out his old belongings. The last page stayed in the autumn seven years ago, and the writing was blurred by the rain: "When the wind stops, I will ask him for an answer." At that time, she always liked to follow Ji Yunheng, watching him mix paints in the studio, and listening to him talk about the wind in the northwest grasslands. He said that he would take her to see the Populus euphratica forest, and that he would wait until the right season to say some things. But before the wind stopped, an accident completely blew away their trajectory. She later went to many places and saw different winds, but she never waited for the answer that was swept away by the wind. Until one day on the street in a foreign land, I saw a figure who looked exactly like him, holding half a yellowed painting in his hand. In the painting, she was standing under the ginkgo tree when they first met. The wind picked up again, messing up her hair and blowing away the "Is it you?" She was about to say. It turns out that some answers, as early as the moment they were torn apart by the wind, were destined to sink in time forever, and even the reunion was just a grand miss.