There are still three hundred and sixty-five days until the rust breaks out. The world doesn't know.
From the first night they met on the rooftop, Mengyao squatted next to Xingxun and called his name with a smile, shaking two glasses of hot milk in her hand, teasing him about his red ears one sentence after another, and at the end she added a string of "Jie Jie Jie" laughter. She told him that she came back from the future and that he would be a very important person to her in the future. "How important?" He asked. She tilted her head and smiled: "It's more important than you think anyway."
He didn't know how much that "point" was. I didn't know she had a countdown on her phone that was decreasing every day. He didn't know that he would become a rusty bait and be trapped by the military in the future, and he would become the loneliest living target in the city. Not to mention that every time she encountered danger, she would be the first to rush in. After the injection, she would turn around and smile at him as if nothing happened. She would then turn her back and swallow the blood in her mouth.
When Xingxun can piece together a complete picture from the swept away memory fragments one day in the future, he will see her squatting on the rooftop and calling his name with a smile, two glasses of milk still steaming in her hands. Only then did he know what the word she didn't say at that time was.
She had only one plan: for him to never meet her. But the hot milk is too hot, the stars are too bright, and his ears are too red. Just wait, just wait for one more day. Let's talk tomorrow.
When the countdown reached zero, she realized it was too late.
