Chapter 1 Hello, sixteen-year-old Luo Yan
In my barren and desolate land, you are the last rose.
——Luo Yan
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On the third day after Jiang Zhao returned to China, he received a friend request from a high school classmate.
Lin Chongyang, the class monitor from high school.
He said that the class was planning to organize a class reunion and that he would go back to school to see the teacher. He knew that she had returned to China and asked her if she had time.
Jiang Zhao agreed immediately and asked him to add him to the first-year high school classmates group.
[Forever Class 1, Grade 1]
As soon as he entered the group, Lin Chongyang sent several emoticons in a row, laughing and joking as usual: Welcome the most beautiful female doctor in my class.
Jiang Zhao studied in the high school department of Mingyuan No. 1 Middle School for only one year before transferring to a high school abroad.
Later, I received an offer from a prestigious university and completed my bachelor's, master's and doctoral studies.
She gave a speech as an outstanding graduate at the school graduation ceremony, which was recorded and posted online.
Mathematics, PhD, and beauty.
The label was eye-catching and spread widely, even my former classmates saw it.
When the group was in chaos, Jiang Zhao was looking through the WeChat member list.
She searched once and looked carefully three times, but still couldn't find the person she was looking for.
Jiang Zhao pretended to ask casually: Why is Yanshen not in the group?
Luo Yan, the top scorer in the college entrance examination of their class, was also Jiang Zhao's deskmate at Mingyuan No. 1 Middle School that year.
It would be reasonable for her to ask.
After Jiang Zhao finished typing, he held the phone against his chest.
Perhaps because she felt guilty, her heart was beating violently.
I picked up the phone again, and surprisingly, no one in the group was talking. Only Jiang Zhao's message was lonely and buried at the bottom.
After a long time, a new message popped up at the top of WeChat, which was a dialog box from Lin Chongyang.
Lin Chongyang: He passed away
Jiang Zhao replied with a question mark.
She wanted to say, "Don't talk nonsense," and that it wasn't funny at all.
Lin Chongyang: Really
Lin Chongyang: Suicide
The message from the other side did not give her any breathing space. Jiang Zhao typed a few words tremblingly: Why?
She remembered that when the college entrance examination results came out in 2016, Mingyuan sent a college entrance examination battle report on WeChat.
When she clicked on it, she saw Luo Yan's photo.
The boy was wearing a blue and white school uniform and standing on the playground of Mingyuan No. 1 Middle School.
It is written in bold below: Congratulations to our school student Luo Yan for winning the top spot in the science subject in the province with a score of 731.
Our classmates are young and in the prime of their lives.
His life had just begun, how could he die?
How could he die?
The message "Type" has been displayed at the top of WeChat for a long time.
Lin Chongyang: I don’t know either.
Lin Chongyang: Don’t mention it in the group
Lin Chongyang: Don’t ask
Lin Chongyang: Anyway, it’s been many years.
Lin Chongyang: Brother Xiong cried miserably at that time
Lin Chongyang's messages continued to come in. Jiang Zhao stood where she was. The crowd surged past, and together with Lin Chongyang's words, they drowned her.
Today is New Year's Eve.
In order to celebrate the New Year, vehicles are prohibited from entering the city center streets.
Snowflakes fell, dyeing the streets in the city center white. On the streets in the new city center, there was an endless stream of people passing by her. Jiang Zhao forced a smile that was uglier than crying, as if she was afraid that someone would see her embarrassment, but her stomach began to ache.
She gasped and tears fell.
People are cheering and counting down, waiting for the New Year to come.
No one noticed that a man slowly squatted down.
"three"
"two"
"one"
They shouted: "2024! Happy New Year!"
Everyone hugged each other and wished each other well.
Jiang Zhao's cries were drowned out by the crowd's celebrations.
The snow fell on my face and it was very cold.
Those memories that I thought I had let go of long ago become particularly clear at this moment.
It was the opening ceremony, and the boy was standing on the stage. She was one of the crowd below, looking up at him from the end of the line, feeling out of reach.
In the empty classroom, Jiang Zhao was dizzy from memorizing words. She looked at him secretly, and he smiled at her with a knowing look: "Memorize well."
It was the last time they met. She had a throbbing heart, but pretended to be calm: "Goodbye."
Since then, she has been running forward.
But now I tell her that her moon has already fallen to the ground.
Jiang Zhao looked up, and the New Year's fireworks and lights made the sky as bright as day.
There is no moon tonight.
She saw a figure falling straight down from the building.
Below are two girls in school uniforms, they are making wishes for the New Year with their eyes closed.
"careful!"
She pounced on him.
His body sank and he completely lost consciousness.
————————
"Students who are late, please introduce yourselves."
Jiang Zhao came to his senses and found that she was standing on the podium.
Wang Guoxiong thought she was nervous and encouraged her, "It's okay, just say a few words."
Wang Guoxiong is Jiang Zhao’s first-year high school class teacher and math teacher.
She looks gentle, but speaks with vigor and acts decisively. Therefore, her classmates call Wang Guoxiong "Brother Xiong".
And now, she was looking at herself with a smile, and behind her, on the wooden classroom door, a metal doorplate gleamed, with the words "Grade 1, Class 1" written on it.
In a trance, Jiang Zhao remembered that it was the first day of high school.
August 31, 2013.
Jiang Zhao was late because of traffic jam. When she ran to the classroom door panting, the last student in the class had just finished introducing himself.
At that time, Jiang Zhao looked at the eyes of the people below and couldn't say a word. He was too nervous to look up.
In the end, he could only utter four words: "My name is Jiang Zhao."
Is she dreaming?
If it was a dream, it was too real.
Jiang Zhao looked across the crowd and towards the back row of the classroom.
The boy was sitting near the back window in the classroom. He was caught off guard when his eyes met Jiang Zhao's. He turned his face away.
Jiang Zhao smiled inwardly and bowed deeply. "Hello everyone, my name is Jiang Zhao, which comes from the saying, 'A gentleman should make others bright by his own brightness.' I hope to spend a happy high school life with you all in the future."
Wang Guoxiong said, "Go sit in an empty seat first."
Before he finished speaking, Jiang Zhao had already quickly walked to the back of the classroom.
All the classmates have arrived, and there is only an empty seat next to Luo Yan.
Jiang Zhao put down his schoolbag.
Luo Yan was looking out the window.
Across the street is the teaching building for the second grade of high school. The school started classes early and it is now break time. Boys and girls in school uniforms are standing in the corridor in groups of three or four chatting.
The girl's smiling face was reflected in the glass, and Jiang Zhao patted his shoulder.
Luo Yan turned his head, and the sunlight cast a layer of golden light on his face.
He has a pair of beautiful eyes, peach blossom eyes, deep eye sockets and light eye color.
Like the night, with silence and stars, distant and bright.
In the past, Jiang Zhao felt that his eyes were full of alienation and he didn't dare to talk to him.
She extended her hand: "Hello, classmate, my name is Jiang Zhao."
The girl's dark eyes were filled with moisture, as if she was about to cry in the next second.
Finally, before Jiang Zhao could retract his hand, he reached out.
His hands were very cold, with distinct joints and even visible pale blue veins.
He just gently squeezed Jiang Zhao's fingertips: "Luo Yan."
hello.
Jiang Zhao said in his heart.
Sixteen-year-old Luo Yan.
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PS:
1. The heroine will be stronger than the hero after rebirth. If you cannot accept the suggestion, just cross it out.
2. I am revising the article recently, so the comments may be lost. Private Marseille.
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