The Dragon Should Hide in the Clouds

In the library in late autumn, a copy of "Keywords in Western Literary Theory" led Fang Jinhe, a senior student in the Chinese Department, to meet Ji Mingchuan, a lecturer who was about to change careers. He was a calm and transparent guide, clearing away the confusion for her who was confused, and pointing out the direction of her studies and life; she was a bright and vivid light, shining into his years of struggle from academic ideals to the real workplace. The sweet smell of sweet-scented osmanthus cake, the chat in the cafe, the tilted umbrella eaves on rainy nights, in every moment of daily life, love quietly grows, but it is always limited by the age gap and the misalignment of life stages, hidden in the heart and unspoken. He rushes to the workplace in a hurry; she breaks away from dependence and grows into an independent and sober publisher step by step. The distance grew longer and the silence gradually grew. In the end, realistic considerations prevented this feeling from crossing the invisible boundary. They said goodbye in a tacit understanding, never holding hands, but already accompanying each other through the most precious journey of growth. We met again at the book fair, and when we looked at each other and smiled, the regrets of the past turned into the tenderness of the years. It turns out that not all love needs to be kept together, and not all deep feelings need to be expressed verbally. The dragon should be hiding in the clouds, and if you and I light each other's way, this life is complete.