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Chill Summer's Unrequited Affection
墨書 Inktalez
The summer was indifferent to romance, with its half-cold, half-warm weather making it difficult to choose an outfit. She felt a slight headache. By eight or nine in the morning, sunlight gently spilled over the girl's bare honey-colored shoulders. Her long hair couldn't hide the beautiful butterfly bones that shimmered in the light, along with a delicate bouquet of Friend Daisy resting on the bedside table and a novel she had barely read a third of before succumbing to drowsiness. Everything in this bedroom was as pure as an unframed summer oil painting.
Classic and romantic, with a radiant smile of summer, classic flowers and a girl.
After staying up all night, dark circles floated beneath her eyes. She found it somewhat amusing as she crossed her arms and scrutinized herself in the vanity mirror—thankfully, no extra blemishes had appeared. Suddenly remembering something, the girl tilted her chin up; the curve of her neck was elegant and soft, reminiscent of the neck of Qinghua Porcelain, exuding a unique swan-like pride. If that mosquito hadn’t left a bite mark, this scene would have been even more harmonious.
Feeling too lazy to fill in her brows, her soft pink lips looked invitingly tender. This was yet another vibrant and lively face, she thought. Grabbing a sun protection jacket, she quickly slipped it on and tied her hair into a ponytail with swift movements. She hurriedly twisted the doorknob and leaped out, humming a tune that felt both familiar and strange like a joyful little bird.
What should she eat today? Porridge, pan-fried buns, or boiled eggs?
Time swayed; for her, this summer was unforgettable and carefree. A beam of light fell solely on her, and there were people worth looking forward to. Beauty always seemed particularly cherished by time, and they had never let each other down. After the rain, the pond echoed with the sounds of cicadas and frogs. Under the rainbow bridge after the rain cleared, the sound of light footsteps could not be concealed; they had been waiting for her all along.
It seemed that every story must begin from long ago. To speak of love must first start with liking.
Like the last difficult question in a science exam—if you skip steps and bypass processes, even if your answer is entirely correct, you can only earn a point from a teacher who smiles without sincerity.
But how could "love at first sight" be explained scientifically without sounding offensive? Was she really so superficial as to be attracted to Chen Qian merely by appearance? Absolutely not!
Her eyes were captivating; they made you feel that no matter how plain a face might be, with those eyes embedded in it, it would shine brilliantly. Even if her full lips buzzed incessantly, just one glance into her eyes would leave you startled—sparkling and deceptive like sweet osmanthus wine that could easily intoxicate you with just two sips. If you wanted to continue the conversation, you would have to guess what she said; understanding lip reading would be ideal; otherwise, only the whispering wind would know about the innocent little lies she just told.
Please, walk with me.
The girl held a pure white parasol above her head; a damp strand of hair clung to her smooth forehead while her moist eyes seemed soaked in too much hazy mist. The curved handle of the parasol was elegantly arched like a crescent moon, adorned at the top with exquisite lace trim. Just like her innocent face—one sweet smile was enough to capture hearts effortlessly. Chen Qian followed the sound of those enchanting eyes as he stepped into the sacred space beneath the parasol—a boundary of desire and love that felt fragile yet unyielding under his careful grasp.
As the temperature gradually warmed, the humid heat climbed higher along with the tail of the wind, bringing with it the unique briny scent of the ocean. The two walked in sync, with the beautiful sunset resting on their shoulders, until the golden earth fell into silence. In the space they shared, only an unspoken stillness lingered. The sea was not tumultuous; the waves crashing one after another could not compare to the overwhelming emotions she felt for a stranger for the first time in her life.
Liang Xia was oblivious to romance, yet she was as adorable as the happiest little bird in the world. How could anyone refuse happiness? She had always been curious: why did Liang Xia's energy seem inexhaustible? She had endless vitality, finding a thousand ways to achieve her plans, adaptable and resourceful, using tears and pouting as her weapons—she adored Liang Xia for her clumsy little schemes that were so transparent.
“ The Grass of Yan, Like Green Silk, Qin Mulberry Bows with Green Branches,” she thought, amused by the wind's laughter. Her longing was too urgent and inexplicable. In a place of stunning mountains and beautiful waters, she was not one for meditation; how could she see mountains as not mountains and waters as not waters? “Remember Green Ivy Skirt, everywhere cherishing Fragrant Grass.” She saw Fragrant Grass, usually soft and gentle, blooming with smiles, and every passing bird seemed to embody joy.
What if she were to see Liang Xia now?
When embracing, she reminded herself to breathe deeply; even if they were too close and she could smell the refreshing mint scent in Liang Xia's hair, she must remain composed and strive for grace. But what scent did Liang Xia like? The smell of sunlight was not that of dust mites but rather that of cotton fibers roasted by ultraviolet rays. She knew Liang Xia loved sunshine but loved the wind even more. Liang Xia had once praised her for being like the wind—coming and going swiftly.
Walking along the coastline at dusk, she counted down to the fall of the 365th star, having not seen it in a long time—surely it was wonderful there. She missed this summer so much; under a starry night sky with a tent on the grass, she smiled as Liang Xia recited “The reeds are tall” all night long. The next day, when dawn broke, she was the only one who descended from the mountain.
The true wind could never be chased; it felt as though those eyes were determined to capture her. Chen Qian shook her head, her hand trembling slightly as she held a photograph before solemnly closing that hidden box.
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