Fireworks and March

"His name is Yan Hua, her name is March - names are the fuse planted by fate, and the heartbeat of sixteen is the fire that starts a prairie fire. He squeezed into the county with a woven bag in hand, and met a girl who was staggering while holding a quilt. Her inferiority and dignity fermented into thorns in her sweat; she knelt at the finish line of the track, her torn knees were more glaring than the sunset, but she smiled and said, "If the bridge is broken, just wait until the water recedes." Ten years later, the jasmine bloomed in Yangzhou City, and the misty rain wet the woolen blanket on her wheelchair, and he finally understood the diary hidden in the physics notes: 'If you are the cold spring in Jiangnan, I would like to turn into a snow to put out the fire.' "