Seventeen-Year-Old Wisteria and the Unopened Letter

"I heard that if you make a wish on the 99th wisteria, the gods will fulfill the promise you dare not say out loud." In the early autumn of 2009, Xia Zhi, a student with a specialty in art, transferred to Nanjiang No. 1 Middle School and smashed the competition question book in the boy's arms in the physics laboratory. The wisteria specimens falling between the yellowed pages and the faded braided bracelet on each other's wrists revealed a bond that had been sealed for ten years - it turned out that they were childhood playmates who agreed to plant wisteria in the children's ward. When the alienated physics genius began to use Polaroid to record the side profile of her sketch, when the cold sweat from the illness soaked the sketchbook, there was always mint to deliver painkillers, and Xia Zhi carved the 98th wisteria pattern on the desk. But she hid the chemotherapy notice, and Lin Xubai never dared to take out the love letters that were getting thicker every year from the library bookshelf. It wasn't until under the operating light with the first snowfall that the boy clutched an envelope with the words "Open when the hundredth flower blooms" written on it, that he could understand that all the silhouettes of boys wearing bracelets in her sketchbook were on the last page of the countdown album. "There are two cowards hidden in the time capsule: one dare not say that he is waiting for the wisteria flowers to bloom, and the other dare not say that he cannot wait until the flowers bloom."