Forgotten Sea

In a daze, the surging summer of 2015 and the rain-soaked dusk burst into my memory without warning.

＿＿

"Will you remember tomorrow?"

"The diary you wrote yesterday"

"Will you still be thinking about me tomorrow?"

"You who used to love crying the most"

Before evening self-study, the radio room plays songs submitted by students as usual.

The chirping of cicadas makes the summer nights stuffy and restless.

Bai Luo turned the beautiful pen and climbed up the last step.

Pushing open the rusty door, the evening breeze suddenly rushed in, blowing the hem of my clothes away.

The moonlight covered the entire rooftop, and I stood on the edge and looked down.

The neon lights of the city flow in the distance, and at the foot is the dark outline of the teaching building. The mountains farther away are hidden in the night and are blurred and difficult to distinguish.

A person falls into a long period of emptiness in the silence, and the chirping of cicadas and the sound of wind gradually fade away.

Until a faint bitter smell of cigarettes seeped into her breath, she frowned and looked around, suspecting that a security guard had come up, and hurriedly curled up by the water tank in the corner of the rooftop.

Holding my chin with both hands, I looked at the stars on the horizon. They seemed within reach, yet so far away.

Little did he know how long she had been staring at him, and how long the amusement gaze hidden in the dark had lingered on her back.

When she felt tired, she rubbed her eyes. Her legs were numb from squatting for too long, and she stumbled and hit the corner of the water tank.

The pain made her eyes red.

He walked slowly to the gray brick wall and wrote two lines of words with a beautiful pen, stroke by stroke.

Bai Luo.

Will you ever let go of your eleven-year-old self in the future?

Will he become a real war correspondent?

His forehead pressed against the wall covered with writings, and a tear silently slid down.

The future is long, it will definitely happen.

When I got up, a light rain suddenly fell from the sky without any warning.

The new ink gradually faded in the rain, but she let the words dissipate and blend into the mottled shadows on the wall that carried the expectations and regrets of countless people.

When I pushed open the rusty iron door again, I heard a faint laugh and subconsciously turned my eyes to look for the source of the sound.

The view was dim as if in a rainy night, and the air was filled with mist.

In the haze, the corner of a pure white shirt pierced through the gloom, like a flash of ephemeral flower, or a phantom in the fog.

The more unknown something is, the more uneasy it makes people feel.

When he was about to raise his foot to find out what was going on, he bumped into a security guard who was patrolling with a flashlight.

The pale light flashed across Bai Luo's wet face.

"You again, little girl."

The security guard, who was in his fifties, had a low voice, dulled by the night rain. He had seen her wandering on the rooftop more than once.

Even though he was being scolded with a lowered brow, Bai Luo still couldn't suppress the staring in his eyes.

I saw the bluish-white smoke being shattered into pieces by the rain.

Amid the crackling sound of rain, a hint of sneer floated out from the darkness.

As if mocking her:

How come he was caught by security again?

Bai Luo felt an inexplicable sense of depression in his heart.

He couldn’t catch the one without clothes, nor the one smoking, but he caught her who was returning to the classroom.

Admit defeat.

Little did he know that after she left, the young man hiding behind the white astronomical dome put out his half-smoked cigarette.

On a rainy night, Kuangye brushed back his wet black hair, revealing a pair of dark eyes with ambiguous meanings.

He walked to the wall full of youthful thoughts, squatted at the place where the girl had stayed, wiped the rain water on the words bit by bit with a pure white shirt, and then traced each stroke with a marker.

Finally, he added a powerful sentence below the two lines of words:

"I hope you are, but I hope even more that you are the one who returns safely."

The air was thick with smoke and bullets were whistling, but his heart beat only for her safety.

＿＿

The words on the graffiti wall have long faded, and the memories have also turned gray and faint.

Bai Luo bent his knees and squatted, carefully tracing the strokes he had made when he was eighteen years old with his slender fingers.

Back then, the dreams of youth were as big as the sky, and everything we wanted in our hearts was bound to come true.

Now her faith remains the same. She will become a true war correspondent, just like her father, using her life to defend the light of humanity in the flames of war and convey the truth to the world.

So, where does the hope for a safe return come from?

Is he the boy who skipped evening self-study and shared the night breeze with her on the rooftop?

There is no place to express my melancholy, it is as unreal as the stars in the sky seen through the twilight through an old photo frame.

It doesn't matter.

There was no light in the stairwell, and the sound of footsteps was swallowed by the echo.

Only the emergency light was on in the corridor, and the bleak green light slanted down from above.

Bai Luo followed his memory and groped his way to the radio room he had visited countless times in high school.

The street lights were dimly lit, and shadows slanted from west to east, casting a shadow on the messy papers on the table.

She walked to the corner and picked up a stack of papers, thinking it was a speech or an excellent essay.

The window was not closed tightly, the humidity in the air soared, and the sound of wind blowing green leaves rushed in from outside the window.

In the dim moonlight and street lights, Bai Luo concentrated on making out the smooth handwriting on the paper.

"Hello everyone, I'm Bai Luo from Class 14 of Grade 11. Today, I write this with a sense of guilt..."

In a split second, a thick mist rolled up in her eyes, blocking out the sky and the sun, and she could not see anything clearly.

The stack of papers in my hand began to heat up.

It was so hot that I didn't know what to do.

It was the first self-criticism she read in the radio room when she was in her first year of high school.

I was caught skipping classes by the head teacher. After a severe reprimand, a 500-word reflection and a public review by the whole school became an unavoidable punishment.

I was so upset that I felt anxious all night long.

Turn the pages one by one.

[I am writing this letter of apology because I am...]

[When the teacher punished me to write a self-criticism, my mind…]

[For schools, ensuring that students do not skip classes is a…]

The thick stack was a reflection of all her confessions during her three years of youth.

Every time she finished reading in the broadcasting room, she would crumple the paper into a ball without thinking, or tear it into pieces without mercy and throw it into the trash can in the corner, never taking it away once.

At this moment, none of the papers in my hands are smooth. Every page is either wrinkled or covered with transparent tape for repair, and the edges are all added with eye-catching fluorescent colors.

So, I picked up all the self-apology letters she had thrown into the trash can, carefully sorted them out and saved them, and placed them in the corner of the desk.

Are you sure that she will return to Nanhuai No. 1 Middle School one day?

Or was it to remind her that these 'mistakes' were just detours she'd taken, but would they lead her in the right direction?

The edges of each page are painted in fluorescent colors, symbolizing "illuminating growth in the darkness."

The boy just wanted to tell her.

The self-criticism was not a black history, but a real ladder. She climbed up the ladder, step by step, reaching a height that he could not reach.

Turning to the last page, it was her most torn up self-criticism.

In the lower right corner floats a naive painting:

A girl stands on a cliff, her feet on the clouds and the bright sun above her head.

The paper was badly damaged and it was difficult to piece together a complete outline, but it was pieced together into the shape of a butterfly, quietly clinging to her name.

She had always thought that mistakes would leave scabs, but now she saw that wings had grown from the scabs.

One tear after another fell uncontrollably.

The floor was empty, and the echo spread from south to north, resounding throughout the silence of the broadcasting room.

She had no idea who was manipulating her.

Really, there's no way of knowing.

She is such a bad person that even her own mother doesn't love her. How could a stranger love her from beginning to end?

Outside the radio room, the moonlight was too dim, half bright and half dark.

The dizziness of the streetlights covered his eyes. Bai Luo sniffed and put the apology letter in his hand back into the corner.

As he dragged his feet toward the door, the phone in his hand suddenly vibrated.

The cold white light of the screen flickered, piercing the damp vision.

The celebration on the playground was about to begin, and the speakers were playing vague prelude music.

It’s “So Young”.

"Some people, some things, some youth"

“You can only remember but can’t repeat it”

News about Bo Yi.

[What time is the ticket?]

She thought he had lost his key and needed to return with her.

When I wanted to reply, the other party directly sent a video call request.

He touched the answer button and leaned dejectedly against the door, waiting for the other party to speak.

"Crying?"

During the video call, the other party's location was unknown, the screen was gray and black, and faint singing could be heard.

"No."

Bai Luo thought he was still in the KTV and stubbornly refused to admit it.

I secretly sighed, has he really developed a pair of eyes that can analyze microscopic features?

How did you tell she was crying?

"Yeah?"

A mocking snort was heard in the video.

"Bai Luo, your lying skills are as bad as ever."

"If you're alright, I'm hanging up."

Always ruining her career.

The other person's screen seemed to shake, and a few lights flashed behind him.

"Okay, hang up. It's your phone and you have the final say."

“…”

Sarcastic.

Bai Luo hung up the phone without hesitation.

Before the screen went off, I vaguely caught a sneer that was exactly the same as the one I heard on the video call.

At the moment of frowning, a low-pitched and unmistakable voice came clearly into his ears.

"look up."

Her hearing suddenly lost focus and her movements slowed down a bit.

The moment I raised my eyes, it felt like there was a wisp of cool breeze at the corner of my eyes, and it couldn't be melted away no matter what I did.

At the end of the dark corridor, a man leaned against a cloud-covered window, his hooded sweatshirt hanging loosely. Under the shadow of the hood, a pair of fierce and murderous eyes were half hidden and half visible.

The shadows are so long that the corridor becomes dark.

Bai Luo swallowed silently. He had been in the same room with him for so long that he had almost forgotten his original appearance.

Brutal. Cold. Cold-blooded.

He is arrogant and loves no one.

"Why are you here?"

She lifted her long skirt and walked towards the fogged glass window at the end of the corridor like a lotus.

"Why, I didn't graduate from Nanhuai No. 1 Middle School."

A figure stood by the window, the bottle of orange soda in his hand reflecting the light.

“…”

"The campus website said you declined."

Bai Luo stood still at the intersection of light and shadow, his eyes looking through the window panes at the hustle and bustle in the dark night.

The familiar singing voice that just came from the video call was actually brought over from a familiar land by the evening breeze.

He really returned to his alma mater.

The playground was bustling with activity, playing the season's hit songs. The two figures in the art building were lost in the pale yellow school lights outside the window.

Bo Xi stared at her tear-red eyes for a long time, and irritably poked her cheek with the tip of his tongue.

"So do you want me to return to the stage?"

Following closely behind his last syllable was the girl's resolute voice.

"No."

She didn't want him to go back to the stage of being eighteen years old.

The eighteen-year-old boy was full of high spirits and had lofty ambitions. He believed that he could achieve everything and was omnipotent.

The belief that victory was inevitable was due to youthful arrogance, but later on I discovered it was a prophecy.

Eighteen years old is an irreplaceable and unique edition, and the destitute shadow dares not look back.

So, she said she didn't want him to step onto the stage soaked in memories again.

She knew that every time she picked up a fragment of memory, it was like cutting out a bloody bone from his heart.

The past glory reflected in the broken mirror only makes the current decadence more glaring.

All she wanted was for him to live, even if it was just a barely surviving existence in the miserable daily life.

But what Bo Xi heard was completely different. He thought that she was unwilling to go to the playground with him.

"Oh, then I prefer to go back to the stage."

A cold and hoarse voice suppressed the bottom of the throat.

He casually crossed his arms and carefully examined her outfit today.

"Tonight's clothes are quite..."

Deliberately leaving the ending syllable hanging in mid-air, Bai Luo mistook the pause for a blank space for savoring the taste, and his fingertips unconsciously touched the gauze of the skirt.

"I bought this at the mall today. Isn't the skirt beautiful?"

Then, I heard his ruthless evaluation.

“It’s ugly in its own way.”

“…”

Bai Luo suppressed the urge to raise his eyelashes, was too lazy to pay attention to him, and turned away.

Bo Xi laughed softly and followed her closely, but secretly curled the corners of his lips in the shadows.

How can it be ugly?

It's so beautiful that it's distorted.

In the dim courtyard, Bo Xi suddenly stopped.

A half bottle of orange soda, a half pack of cigarettes, and a lighter lay before Bai Luo.

"I'll return the soda to you. Please keep the cigarettes and lighter for me for a while. I'm going to make a phone call."

Bai Luo's gaze fell on the half-empty bottle of soda.

He had drunk it.

On the train, he forcibly took away half a bottle of mineral water from her and drank it all in front of her on the platform.

In the end, he shamelessly said, "It's quite sweet."

She pursed her lips and took it. When her knuckles touched the cold bottle, it felt like a burn.

Orange-flavored soda was probably her favorite drink in high school, but now she only despises it.

Some memories are gray, even the color of orange soda has faded to a yellowish gray.

"I'll go first."

Bai Luo thought that he had something important to tell him on the phone and it was inconvenient for him to be there.

"Don't smoke my cigarette behind my back."

The smile on Bo Xi's lips was faint, but in just a moment, he returned to his stern expression.