Talking about time and cooking rain.

Time boiled and the rain hurried that year. Those days stranded by years, even in the memory of drifting away, become more and more pale. It is still the quietest, most prosperous, most regretless and enchanting scenery in my life. I only hope that when we meet again, it will still be so clear, and you and I will still be such teenagers in each other's eyes!

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Time boiled the rain and took away many past events like the wind. However, those lush memories always feel gloomy when they see a familiar scene or a familiar word. How many years of wandering, how many years of waiting, let a young heart drift away from the hometown of childhood friends.

And we, the same feelings, are separated, and many people are long gone. Just as at this moment, I am sitting in the midsummer, leaving a line of simple fine print, but it has nothing to do with any familiar figure. It turns out that in those years, the road we walked together was too short to say goodbye, and we have turned to the ends of the earth.

Looking back, it is a long melancholy and a short sigh. After walking so far, I still like the days when I am covered with wormwood and tied with colorful ropes. Without your hasty farewell, without the tears I secretly shed.

After all, we were still in the midsummer of that year, stepping on those melancholy lines in Xu Zhimo's Farewell to Cambridge and going our separate ways. We haven't taken away a cloud in the western sky, and the sleeves waving gently are full of tears. In a blink of an eye, you took your sunshine road and he took his wooden bridge. Have we forgotten the original agreement on the road of chasing dreams? So, in this life, there will never be any intersection again?

We ran all the way, shouted all the way, left-handed fireworks, right-handed poetry. Forever, let yourself fall in the city like the rising full moon or Xuan Yue, alone, pouring out bright light. Since then, in that period of time, only the silence of the wind and the traces of youth have been left.

Time to boil the rain, flowers fall again and again. How much youth is gone forever. How many unforgettable, stay in the horizon. Those times of laughing and crying together, just like that, after waving, condensed into a perfect shoulder.

I cried and left a childlike innocence. Dear you, are you okay now? I haven't finished my ink. As soon as I turned around, I was separated from the endless scenery.

Listening to the rain under the eaves, it was silent. Whose soul-stirring song is the wind chime gently singing? That childhood sweetheart will never catch up with that white horse. We once said that we would always be together, but now it has become a joke. The smile of the bright moon and the cool breeze is heartbreaking.

That year, in a hurry. Do you remember your parting words? Gently, fold a willow leaf and send it with wine. I hope you, me and him on this road will never be separated and never leave. However, the vicissitudes of life still don't give me a chance to stay. Hurriedly, the sadness of parting, whose tears are dancing? Little by little, look at your smile, still so sweet, still so pure. Why, suddenly I can't see it, only what I wrote together can't be separated, overflowing my eyebrows, causing a little sadness.

In a hurry, that year. How many don't give up, how many sigh a thousand times. Time is warm, blowing peach blossoms, blowing cherry red and brushing banana green. I was in the clouds, and through my thoughts, I put pen to paper to complete the myth of my childhood.

The traces of years have been blown into flowers by the rain. Have you received all these years of concern? That year, that spring, cherry blossoms were in full bloom on campus, and we laughed and danced at will, rendering infinite happiness. Blink of an eye, happiness came to an abrupt end. You went to the end of the world, but you left me. Tears are not obedient, a river flows upstream. Suddenly miss those years together, miss those silly us in time.

Once said that we would go to the world together, now it has become an empty talk. Standing at the lost intersection of that year, who can remember how beautiful, how many cheers, how many laughs, how many flowers bloom and how many flowers fall with you? The years are windy and the world of mortals is rolling. I wonder, will we meet again at the next intersection? Then, wait together, walk together, and let the catkins float around us until we run away with a smile and go to the tree where we made a promise together to witness the mark of our lives.

In a hurry that year, those far away, is this life, we can never go back to the melancholy. The rush of time makes people panic. It's a pity that we have forgotten those shivering wandering treasures. Looking around, even missing has become a luxury. When we were young, the dream words we held tightly in our hands finally left without saying goodbye on a dewdrop morning. Leaving only a faint trace of water, we are disappointed and confused.

Time boiled the rain, but my feelings remained the same, and I hurried that year. When I think of you, me and him, it's a flower, a full moon, a clear stream, a Shan Lan, a cluster of new green spots on its branches, predestined fate in previous lives. Standing on the other side of the fleeting time, look back at this shore. Those days stranded by years, even in the memory of drifting away, become more and more pale. It is still the quietest, most prosperous, most regretless and enchanting scenery in my life. I only hope that when we meet again, it will still be so clear, and you and I will still be such teenagers in each other's eyes!