The Price Tag of Youth

[It took him ten years to understand the ticket to youth that had been marked with a price by fate. That spring rain, at the end of the corridor. She was a rich girl holding an imported picture album, and I was a poor academic with white-sleeved sleeves. Shen Siyan's world includes a grand piano and a Paris art exhibition, while my world includes a convenience store in the early hours of the morning and my mother's medicine bill. She said: "Yanchuan, you are brighter than the stars." But I know that some lights will burn if you get close. We once carved "always together" under the desk. Share a pair of headphones and listen to Debussy's "Moonlight"; Share baked cookies on the rooftop where the cherry blossoms have fallen; She knitted a crooked scarf for me, and I gave her a moon necklace I bought at the night market. Until her father pushed a half-million check across the table: "Leave my daughter, this money can change the fate of you and your mother." See you again in ten years. I am a technology upstart and she is the heir to the family business. In the conference room, she was doing business: "Mr. Yan, I have long admired you." But the tea room whispered: "You have a bad stomach, don't drink so much coffee." We all learned to drink black coffee without sugar; I also learned to hide all my youthful frivolity in the face of reality. On the eve of the demolition of the old teaching building, we returned to the ruins by chance. The moonlight illuminates the childish handwriting under the desk: "Yan Chuan and Shen Siyan will always be together. ——2012.3.21" She asked softly: "If you had it to do over again, would you take me away?"