The train heads south

  In May, I put on my school uniform and sat in the classroom at the end of the corridor on the third floor for the last two classes. Although it was already summer at that time, there was still a lingering atmosphere in the air that belonged to the north. The sycamore had not yet fully grown new leaves, so I could see the magnificent white belly and The thin long black tails turned bright purple when the sun shone on them.
  In the second big class of the morning, I included a peach-flavored fruit candy, pulled the school uniform zipper to the top position, and followed the entire senior high school troop downstairs and ran around the playground. The cool breeze blew across the cheeks and then through the eyelashes, drilling into the nasal cavity with tiny dust. I covered my red nose blowing with my hand and returned to the classroom. The bell of the third class just rang. I sat in my seat, not staring at the review outline of the silver-white staples. There was no serious head teacher with gold-rimmed glasses in the classroom, nor the rustling of the rough exercise book with the pen tip.
  From the bottom of the stack of workbooks in the desk hole, I pulled out a three-layer draft paper, and then another layer before putting it into the right pocket of the school uniform.
  The workbook textbooks and test papers were full of schoolbags. I struggled to hold the stack of review materials left on the table. My shoulders were sore and my hands were a little numb. I stood beside my seat and couldn’t free my hand to hug or wave goodbye to others. In an instant, the order in the classroom was chaotic, everyone was unprecedentedly excited, the function image on the blackboard was gone, and the chalk in the chalk box was gone.
  I am not sure if I am the first person to leave the classroom, but I feel that when we walk through the long corridor and see your back, there are only two of us in the world. When I was a few meters away from you, I let go of my right hand, pulled out the scratch paper from my pocket, and speeded up my pace. When I passed you, I stuffed the draft paper into the kettle pocket next to your bag.
  On that draft paper, there are countless math problems that I can’t solve that proves that I am a fool, and there is a “like you”, which proves that the long three years seems to have passed. When the scratch paper left me, it was like the moment when the class ran to the finish line ahead of time, but this time I crossed it easily, so I became a deflated balloon.
  When Gao Yi first entered school, the backyard of the cafeteria and the downstairs of the girls’ dormitory were the gathering places for stray cats. When passing by during the lunch break, there were always girls holding baked sausages to feed them. Later, feeding cats became a ban in school. It was common to see the cleaning aunt wearing a work clothes holding a willow broom and rushing down the cat squatting downstairs. Only a pregnant female cat would still dry under the tree sun. The tabby cat was lazy and docile when he was alone, and once someone approached, it seemed to be crazy, showing sharp claws, I heard that it also scratched a cleaning lady. It’s a tough look to everyone, but it’s fun to play with a boy alone.
  So I met you for the first time. I may call that meeting inappropriate, because I’m just behind you, and you don’t know that you have become the scenery before me.
  I’m a very ordinary person. I don’t have the kind of passion described in the movie. I have studied and studied from class to class. I haven’t fought, I haven’t secretly visited Internet cafes, and I haven’t tried my best to care for something. However, I don’t think I am a boring person.
  I still remember the day of the Golden Autumn Games of the second year of high school. The banner of the Golden Autumn Sports Festival hangs on the most prominent place on the podium of the school playground. The school calls that day Golden Autumn every year, but September is still my summer.
  I rushed to the rostrum with the congratulatory message written by our class, thinking that a few more points would help to turn the tide, so I divided one manuscript into two or more. When I was distracted, you picked up the pieces of shredded paper that I dropped. You did n’t smile at me because I was wearing the same school uniform. You did n’t frown because of my carelessness, but said without expression. Then he said, “Here.”
  This is the first time you have spoken to me, and I smiled at you.
  In the most busy and arduous three years, I know nothing about you, and I do n’t even have the courage to try to understand the little things about you. Therefore, these unknowns have become one of the most important parts of my life, and the sweet and sour emotions are the best persistence in the difficult life.
  In the days to come, I will not find you again accurately in the crowded third-floor corridor, I will not line up to buy the same value-for-money lunch, and I will not make my day feel good because I see you laughing . You didn’t make a mistake, so I don’t need open-minded forgiveness, you didn’t touch me, so I don’t need to give back more light and energy. I want to give you the greenest heart and the most silent parting.
  Imagine your good, isolate your bad. You are like this, so is my youth.
  Seventeen years old at the end of August.
  I will leave the north and go south.
  Maybe someday in the future, I will vaguely remember what we looked like when we were seventeen or eighty years old. What kind of grown-ups will we become? These are not so important. The uninhibited, unique and gentleness left by others unintentionally at all times for young people, we were once lost and stubborn, the most unforgettable.