Sophora Japonica Season

When I was sixteen, someone slipped a note into my math textbook. Blue ballpoint pen, thin and long handwriting: "Who are you? I've been following you for a long time!" I never found out who it was. Until the semester started, I stood in front of the list and suddenly turned around. His name is Jiang Huaixu, he often wears simple white T-shirts, loves to play basketball, and his smile can make the whole hot summer. We held each other's hands on Huaihua Slope, kissed under the dim street lights, and lay quietly back to back in the dark night of the hotel. He said "I'll wait for you" and I replied softly "Thank you". At that time, I was sure that there would be countless springs belonging to us in the future. He sent seven messages in succession, ending with just "I'm sorry." I asked, do you still like me? Three cold words popped up on the screen: "I don't like it anymore." It took me ten years to truly understand the weight behind these three short words. I went to a foreign land to restart my life. I thought that white T-shirt would be engraved in the deepest part of my memory. It was only later that I suddenly realized that what really took root in my heart was the warm words in my ears when I was forty years old: "The noodles are ready, add eggs." Twenty years later, Jiang Huaixu stood on the locust flower slope and said: "On the day you turned sixteen, you got a locust flower in your hair. I followed you for three streets and always wanted to tell you." He finally finished what he had not said back then. I didn't look back. It's not that there is still hatred in my heart, it's just that I no longer need this late confession. Sophora japonica flowers bloom as scheduled every year. Some people are always stuck in the blooming season of sixteen, but I have already gone through the entire spring alone.