Beautiful Past Drifting Away
The Last Subway at Midnight
The Years in the Palm of Your Hand
She's a River
Silent Twilight
Everlasting Smile Everlasting Julia
Youth Passed Away
Higher Education-Philosophy-Reincarnation
Classroom Essay on Ideals
Love in the Time of Cholera
Beautiful Past Drifting Away
The Evening of Times
The Soul Like Poppies in Full Bloom
Su Ying
Good-bye Su Ying
Autumn Fairy Tale
Blooming of the Gardenia
The Journey
Love on a Tilted Island
Julia
L'Amant
Red Dust
Heaven Lost
Seventeen Begins to Pale
Obliterated Youth
The Moon
Walking in the Dark
Children of the Metropolis
The winter full of snow-The teenager without an umbrella
Lonely child
The story of Gan Shiba
Seventeen years old began to grow old
Seko ideal classroom essay
Yesterday I met a mature and beautiful woman. Twenty-seven years old, a graduate student in the Department of Environmental Science at Fudan University, but working in an advertising agency.
She has the air of wanderlust about her. The white-collar professional clothes that fill the streets can't disguise the vicissitudes of life that come from the heart. I like her Hubei accent and her poor Mandarin, and I like to call her Sallyt, and I like to meet her on the bus by chance.
When I got on the bus, I didn't realize that my pockets were empty. She was the one who bought the ticket for me.
Then it was acquaintance. They all say I like to date girls a little older than me. Maybe so. Because most women my age can't hear my thoughts.
She told me about her experiences. She said she left home early to study. First to Wuhan, then Beijing, and then to Shanghai. Almost always moving between different cities.
Have you ever had the experience of living alone in a strange city for a long time, and then moving to another city? She asked me. It was really a very lonely feeling. I missed my family in the Hubei countryside, but I couldn't go back to them.
She said that when she was a child, she wrote classroom essays about her aspirations. Everyone else wrote that they wanted to be a worker, a doctor or a soldier. Instead, she wrote that she only wanted to go to a big muted city like Wuhan one day, make enough money, and then go back and buy a piece of land so her family wouldn't have to do work for anyone else.
Who knows that once you're out, you can't go back! Never made enough money, but still always had this determination to believe that this day would come.
I was gently moved as I listened to the dreams of a twenty-seven year old mature white-collar woman.
There was a fear that one day all dreams would be dashed. Fear of the silence that comes with a heart that feels like death.
The woman in front of me has obviously suffered the dust of life. But she was persistent.
I don't know if I'll remember the classroom essay on ideals as a teenager now.
I think it must be to contribute to the construction of the motherland and so on. Sometimes I always feel it is ridiculous and confused.
I don't know how many ideals in my life have faded so blandly that one day there was ridicule and another day there was nostalgia.
How many dreams in life have been dashed like this, leaving not a trace?
That day I sent Yan Yun and Meggie home. Because Meggie lives across the street from my house, Yan Yun wanted to accompany her, and the three of them ended up walking together.
When I first entered junior high school, I knew Meggie and always walked home from Jiangsu Road together after school. I forget what twelve-year-old boys and girls would talk about on the road, but I remember that for a long time my dream was to have Meggie as my best friend.
The hazy feelings of the age of ignorance were not yet shared, and as time went by, they faded into oblivion. There have been many guys pursuing Meggie, and I've had many girlfriends of my own.
Suddenly one day, Meggiee became my best friend's girlfriend. It felt like it suddenly touched the deepest part of my heart. All that comes to mind is the noisy dusk of Jiangsu Road when I was a teenager. Meggie's back on the sidewalk with her long hair. I think of the day when Meggie asked me to go back with her. I shook my head and said, no, I want to play soccer at school.
Given 10,000 chances to do it all over again, I would have gone back with her instead of playing 5-centimeter-diameter "soccer" on a track covered in coal dust.
But what's broken is broken. Like the classroom essay on ideals.
Heard a song by Old Wolf. Teach us youthful once upon a time, drifting in the four directions of the infatuated teenagers, let our hearts intoxicated by the years of flowing water, see us walk all over the ten thousand waters and thousands of mountains.
Who can still recall the classroom essay on ideals? When the children who dreamed of being workers, doctors, the People's Liberation Army, now drifting where?
How many dreams can be left to memory. In the occasional moment of touch.
The years do not leave a mark forgetting the people who love each other. One day old age will forget the childhood essay. If we can meet again someday, will we feel the laughter echoing in the classroom as it did back then?
"I want to be a scientist when I grow up and make a contribution to the construction of the motherland."
"When I grow up, I will marry you."
"When I graduate from college someday, I want to find a well-paying job, and I also want to have a pretty girl for a wife."
"When I was a kid, I always missed the math department, but it's hard to find a job when I come out, do you want me to be Chen Jingrun? Forget it, take the finance department."
He always flunked his touch tests. Thus it didn't matter.
He took the left hand and the right hand and guessed. The left hand wrote Su and the right hand wrote Ying.
The right hand always won.
The game seemed to have a predetermined ending from the start.
The right hand would win. Just like he preferred Ying.
Because Su was the woman who was within reach, while Ying was the woman who was distant and unknowable.
Men are always more interested in the unpredictable.
That day he slipped out of the boarding school known as the prison after school.
He leaned against the doorway of the Modern Vocational School, not far from the school, and watched the boys on campus smoke with impunity.
Su and Ying swirled in his mind.
Then a boy's voice was heard. Goodbye, Su Ying.
He looked up to see a woman who was not beautiful. A short head of hair dyed rose red and a black halter dress that outlined voluminous curves. Staring at a pair of black hiking boots. Silver-white eye powder and perfume that smelled like Midnight Flight.
He said. Su Ying?
Hmm. Who are you?
The man who wants to buy you a cup of coffee.
Okay. Where?
Sunshine Cafe.
They coincidentally asked for Cappuccino.
I know two women, one named Sue and one named Ying.
You couldn't decide, but you chose Su Ying in the end?
Hmm.
She asked about his school and he told her.
She laughed out loud. It was a quaint, traditional, nerd-heavy school.
But you seemed different?
There, if you were different you were ostracized out.
So you came here?
No. Came here because I wanted to find you.
Their conversation was sporadic. He could have asked Su Ying what the first song of If Clouds Knew was, like he did yesterday.
But he didn't. He was aware that the different two games had different controllers.
But or it would end the same.
After that they spent every afternoon together.
She took him to Hengshan Road. To T:G.I. Faiday and Timepassage, to True Pot and Balsam Garden. He'd take her to visit East China Normal University or Jiaotong University or the city's three girls' high schools.
They were fillers in each other's monotonous lives.
But just a glass of wine that could be given up at any time.
She would hold his hand and tell stories of their circle. And then make sure he returns the favor with some nerd stories.
She said Sue and Ying were both great, great girls.
But Su Ying, not such a good girl.