Letters from Orion

Those who were touched by "Letter from Orion" probably have unspoken secrets. When I turned the last page, the ginkgo leaf in the book happened to fall on the chapter of "Orionid Meteor Shower". Suddenly I remembered the boy I always bumped into on the third floor of the library in high school. His borrowing card always had the number of the physics department, and I secretly wrote his name three times in the borrowing column of "Astronomy Enthusiast" magazine. Is there anyone out there who resonates with the "Borrowing Card Code" like me? The veins of the ginkgo leaves in Xia Xiaoyu's "A Brief History of the Evolution of Celestial Bodies" are always described as the shape of Orion; when Zhou Yan returns the book, she will use a pencil to complete the omitted formula next to her dog-eared page - behind "F=G×M1M2/R²", there are very small words hidden: "It's like gravity, it can't be avoided." It turns out that the secret loves of introverts all have the romantic bones of science students. Those "unspeakable" details are so poignant. The handmade soap that Xia Xiaoyu gave to Zhou Yan had diamonds embedded into the outline of Orion, but she lied about it as "just made" when giving it away; the star map that Zhou Yan drew up late at night in the laboratory specifically marked Betelgeuse as the color of her scarf, but she only dared to ask her cousin to bring it to her "on the way". The best thing was that astronomy class. When he was explaining the meteor shower on the blackboard, the chalk suddenly paused and said, "The trajectories of meteors are actually celestial bodies writing love letters." Xia Xiaoyu, who was sitting in the back row, was using a red pen to circle the word "Orion" on his notebook. Does anyone think the ending is too "light"? There was no confession, no hug, but Zhou Yan drew a complete star map of Orion in the guestbook at the observatory, marking "Best observation time: every dusk when she is there." But when I closed the book, I suddenly understood that some things I like should be like Orion, which has been there for thousands of years, silently, but gives direction to every moment I look up. I just turned to the borrowing record at the end of the book and found that the previous reader wrote on the page "Zhou Yan completed the formula": "Later I found out that what he calculated was not the gravitational constant, but the distance between us." Suddenly I want to ask, do you also have such an "Orion" in your heart? Have those unspoken words also become dark lines on the star map? Orion should be very bright tonight. How about going and taking a look?