Please read the original text of Wang Xi's "If You Ever Risked Yourself to Love Someone" or Lu Xiaoqi's "Shadow Appointment" from "The Minimal Story" 2012.9. Thanks haha.

If you have ever loved someone regardless of your own safety Author: Wang Xi When I was in elementary school, you were in the classroom next to me. I knew that you were the most troublesome child in the eyes of the teacher, and you were locked in a cupboard by the teacher. , you jumped out all of a sudden, and the teacher was born prematurely. From then on I was warned not to talk to you. When I was in junior high school, you were in the classroom next to mine. At that time, you were already a head taller than me. You always looked good in your white school uniform. You had a clean face and beautiful eyes. At that time, I could think of This is the only adjective for . At that time, I didn’t have long flowing hair, and I was so thin that I couldn’t stand steady in the wind. I wore a monotonous cotton skirt all summer, and you could see me being so inconspicuous. That was the first love letter I received. Your handwriting is not as beautiful as a human's. It was just a few simple sentences. So at that ignorant age, we started what adults call puppy love. In spring, there is a big rapeseed field on the road in the countryside, and the flowers are golden when they bloom. You would often run there, pick a bouquet of wet rapeseed flowers, put them in a glass vase, and put them on the corner of my table. Later, there would also be peonies, osmanthus, chrysanthemums, or wild flowers that couldn't be named. That glass bottle has been on the table for two years, and I protected it carefully. On the day of the graduation ceremony, the class was in chaos. A girl in front only waved her hand gently, and heard a sharp sound. I still remember the last time you put it in. The ones are white peonies. To put it mildly, I still remember that it was the first time I lay on your shoulder. Although I was very thin, I felt generous at that time. Maybe it was because of this. I cried for a long time. You smiled and patted my shoulder and said, this bottle should have been replaced a long time ago, but I was afraid that you would say that I like the new and dislike the old, so you can just replace it now. In fact, I want to say that I just suddenly thought that there will never be such a day in our lives again. In the third year of our acquaintance, you moved to another city. The first letter you wrote was framed by me and placed at the bottom of the table. You wrote a sentence on the sky blue paper. You said, no matter what, I will love to the end. I receive your letters almost every day, and I pretend to be angry because I am afraid it will affect your study. You said there is a mailbox at the school gate, which is very convenient, so you send letters every day. As a result, after graduating from high school, half of the thick pile of books were yellowed envelopes. During the summer vacation of my sophomore year in high school, I went to look for you in your city. You took me to your school, which was a somewhat remote place in the suburbs. There was a small alley in front of the school, and I didn’t see the mailbox. You put your hands on the back of your head unnaturally and said it, because only in this way can you feel like you can talk to you every day like before. In my senior year of high school, my grades began to decline inexplicably. I originally agreed with my mother that I would repeat my studies, but you insisted on not giving up. In the end, I applied for a northern university that I liked very much. I knew you liked the south. During that summer vacation, neither of us mentioned the issue of entering a higher school. The day I received the admission notice, I didn’t feel too much. You showed up downstairs at my house at three o’clock in the afternoon. You smiled brightly like a child and waved the things in your hand vigorously. I vaguely saw the words "notice" "A few big words. You said, I think the north is actually more suitable for me. I hugged you desperately and cried on your shoulder. I thought this was the end, we all thought at that time. This is the sixth year we have known each other. We took a train together to go to school in another city. I remembered a sentence I had seen, the so-called love is someone who is willing to accompany you on the train. In fact, it is such a vulgar love sentence, but I was excited about it for a long time, and updated it into a personalized signature. That university has a beautiful library, and you would save me a seat by the window on Monday morning, put two cups of coffee on it and wait for me to show up bleary-eyed. The sun often shines in, and I can sleep all morning while leaning against you with my book in my arms. In our seventh year, you lit heart-shaped candles on the school playground. I remember you holding eleven roses. It was such a vulgar plot. I still walked there amidst the envious voices of the girls and the cheers of the boys around me. By your side, you held me so tightly at that time. The seven-year itch is like a bewitched catastrophe in love. She cannot make any waves in our relationship. In the second semester of my junior year, I was busy taking various exams because I wanted to find a job. I am a person without any ambition. I am content with the status quo. My biggest ambition is to marry you. You said you want to take the postgraduate entrance examination. In fact, during the summer vacation of your senior year of high school, everyone thought you had applied for that key university in the south, but you pressed the application form at the bottom of the drawer that day.

These were said by you as a joke after a long time. Although you always said that gold always shines, I still felt guilty for so long. So when you said you planned to take the postgraduate entrance examination, I jumped up from the dormitory bed and said that I would definitely support it with both hands. At the end, I also added, OK, OK, OK. , let’s take all the master’s and doctorate certificates home. You ruffled my hair with a doting look on your face. Not long after the beginning of my senior year, I started looking for a job, while you were immersed in postgraduate entrance examinations. Sometimes when I return to the dormitory late at night, I toss and turn because I am too tired, so I pick up my phone and look at your number in a daze, fearing that it will affect your rest, so I stuff the phone under the pillow every time. When I found my first job, I was excited to be the first to tell you. When you turned off your phone, I realized that I hadn’t received your call for a long time. I went to the classroom where you studied and saw what you and she were discussing. I put the fruit at the back of the classroom, wrote your name on it, and quietly left. When you called me, I was staring at the computer. You said you were busy recently, so you might have ignored me. I smiled and said let you take good care of yourself. Finally, you said that she was the daughter of your tutor, and she also had to take the postgraduate entrance examination, so we took classes together. After a long time, I will always wonder if we could have gone further without her. Or is there something wrong with me that makes you suddenly not want to hold my hand anymore. We separated in the ninth year. I always thought that the hand that is still held tightly after experiencing time, distance, and changes cannot be let go, so is the nine years just a coincidence, and it just happened that you didn't fall in love with anyone else during those years? I was very busy with my internship those days, but I still insisted on going to your classroom every day to deliver meals. I know that you can't take care of yourself when you are serious. Later, you said you felt sorry for me and ran around, saying nothing and not letting me continue delivering food. I just discovered that you didn’t even tell a flaw in your lies, so I would rather believe that you really care about me. It started to snow on the day of winter, and I was waiting for you downstairs in your dormitory. The gray scarf in my arms was woven since the beginning of autumn. I saw you holding another person's hand when you came down from upstairs. I don't remember what you said that day. Maybe it was because it was too cold. I cried along the street until I felt my eyes were about to freeze, and then I just kept crying. Not coming out. In the large reflective glass downstairs of the company, I saw myself transformed into a snowman in the rain, looking extremely embarrassed. I heard that you were admitted to the graduate school of the university in the south that you gave up for me. I heard that you often sent her flowers. I heard that you went shopping with her to eat and watch movies. I heard that you talked to her in the school broadcast room. Say happy birthday and always hear how much you love her. I'm wondering, do you invest so much in every relationship? I stayed in this city, and I thought it was good that I could keep the memory you gave me, because I always thought that I actually loved you more than I imagined. There is an old video store on the corner of the street. I always guess what kind of person the owner is, so he plays Eason Chan's "Ten Years" many times every morning. It was our eleventh year of knowing each other. At the class reunion, I saw you and your virtuous wife beside you. Everyone was vying to give you a drink and complained that you didn't notify everyone about your marriage. I also laughed heartlessly along with everyone. Who would want to believe that I stay in this city and live from 9 to 5 just to keep the memories you gave me? Even I myself have begun to doubt the authenticity of those thoughts. You were still busy taking turns to toast. When you came to me, in the noisy private room, I heard you say, I miss you. Your voice was quickly drowned out. I was confused whether the glass of wine was drunk on your memory or on my ears. How could it be so unreal? What makes me sad is that there is no trace of emotion at all. I just don’t know from which day I forgot to remind myself that I really love you. Every bleary-eyed morning, I can still hear Eason Chan's voice. Occasionally we pass by a familiar coffee shop, and it takes us a long time to remember that it was our favorite place in the past. The good times I had since I was a teenager, the annual oil cauliflower, we rushed as time went by, gone forever. It doesn't matter if I'm by your side for three, seven or nine years. If it's not a lifetime, how can I guard a city thinking it's you. So, my dear, time has been so long that I finally forgot that I still love you. I'm still grateful for the years you spent with me, which at least fulfilled my almost paranoid love. I love you so much that I don't care about my own life.