In order to save some money and cater to the time to come, Yin Yi booked three hard-seat tickets in advance, departing from Beijing at half past nine in the evening and arriving in Wuhan at seven o'clock in the morning.

Ling Zixuan's ticket was picked up last night, and it was not too far from the two carriages Yin Yi was riding. The position of Yin Yi and the three of them was on the left side of the sixth carriage just entered, and from the inside to the outside were Meng Yutong, Yin Yi and Xu Zhe, and two middle-aged ladies sat opposite.

The train started and slowly moved forward, Yin Yi looked out through the window, and the high-rise buildings were hidden in the night, faintly recognizable under the interplay of street lamps and neon lights.

If Yin Yi hadn't been in a hurry to go back, Yin Yi would have wanted to stay in Beijing for two more days and take a walk around the campus of Peking University and Tsinghua University to see how it is different from other universities as China's top universities.

People who like to write something will be more or less sentimental, and Yin Yi is no exception, recalling the wind and rain along the way, a trace of sentimentality grows in his heart.

Yin Yi remembered a passage written by Xi Murong: I like to take the train, I like to go south or north slowly from station to station, and I like me in the middle of the journey. Just because, in the middle of the journey, I can belong to no beginning or to the end, not to any place or to anyone, in this single moment, I just need to belong to myself.

Yin Yi has been on the train so many times, and there has never been a time like Xi Murong said, in a single moment, he only belongs to himself, he feels that his heart is like a wild horse that has escaped the reins, the more you try to suppress it, the more it gallops non-stop.

Opening the log in QQ space, Yin Yi typed word by word:

I have seen the stars, and I have seen the stars

It is a dream under the old tree

It's the spot of light that is broken to the ground and can't be picked up

I walked in the direction of the stars

Walked all the way, walked through the dawn, walked through the dusk

It's always there, shimmering seductively

From start to finish, there was no movement in the slightest

But I have already walked thousands of miles away

I forgot that the stars were not last night......

"Are you writing a novel again?" Meng Yutong poked his head over.

"No!" Yin Yi took his eyes off the screen of his mobile phone, and tilted his mobile phone forty-five degrees to Meng Yutong's side without concealment, "It's just that I'm idle, and I suddenly want to write something." ”

"It's really well written. Meng Yutong read it from beginning to end, with a puzzled look on his face, "It's how the first sentence at the beginning feels weird, I've seen the stars, I've seen the stars, my first feeling is that it's written wrong, but after thinking about it carefully, I know that it can't be written wrong." ”

"The first sentence is an imitation of the sentence written by Lu Xun in "Autumn Night", there are two trees in front of my house, one is a jujube tree, and the other is also a jujube tree. One of the jujube trees written by Lu Xun refers to himself, and the other refers to people who have the same goals as him. ”

Yin Yi continued to explain, "And what I wrote I have seen and seen the stars, the first star refers to the stars I saw in the summer night in my hometown when I was a child, and the second star refers to what I saw and heard after I left my hometown. ”

"I feel that you are really good at writing novels, you can write hundreds of thousands of words casually, every time I read a novel, I feel that it is not very difficult to write, but when I write it myself, I can't hold back a hundred words for a long time. ”

"Writing is a thing to write more, you can know what your shortcomings are, and then you will learn, and after learning it will come back to write, until you find your own style, what to write is easy to do, and then it depends on the individual's creation. ”

"By the way, didn't you say you were going to send me a link to the novel you wrote?"

"Didn't I send it to you?" Yin Yi checked the chat history of WeChat, and indeed never sent it, "The number of words in the long story is a bit much, I guess you won't be able to finish reading it tonight, or I'll send you a new one! This is participating in the bosom friend story writing contest, it's only 2,000 words, and I can read it in a few minutes, and you can also help me vote for a few votes." ”

"Okay!" Meng Yutong opened the link shared by Yin Yi, the title was "That Summer, That You", and read it without distraction. The original text is as follows:

I write a story a day, a story about her.

The beginning of the story is old-fashioned, very bridged, or rather, it has never been changed and cannot be changed. The end of the story is that there are lovers and eventually become married.

However, a story is still a story after all, no matter who is missing, it will become another story, not to mention the lack of a heroine.

Remember Janet Winterson in her novel "Watching the Lighthouse" once said: When you love someone, you should say it, life is just a pause in time, and all meaning is only at the moment when it happens. Don't wait, don't tell the story later.

And I'm the one who has been waiting to tell this story later.

I think it's fitting to describe me as a bystander, as evidenced by the fact that I've known her for many years, and how many years since I've known her face-to-face. I never imagined that one day I would write thousands of sad words to a girl just because she looked at her in the crowd.

Yiren likes to read the books written by Sanmao and Zhang Ailing, the writing is also good, her name can often be seen in the school newspaper, and she also likes to laugh, like the fragrance of the hollow valley orchid, refreshing. In order to be able to talk to her, I came up with a trick to blend in with their class group, and then added her tremblingly.

After she agreed, she and I still had the same intersection as before. I searched for more than a dozen meaningful and interesting chat topics, but I never had the courage to press send. The first conversation I had with her on QQ was because I posted a message about Zhang Ailing in the space, and she posted a comment below.

The moment I saw that it was her, I jumped up from the bed excitedly, completely forgetting that it was just after the early morning, and the other roommates in my frightened sleep thought that something had happened to me, so they hurriedly turned on the lights and looked for shoes. Realizing the gaffe, I even said a few words that I was okay, and then they lay back suspiciously.

In order not to reveal a clue, I covered myself tightly with a quilt, quickly typed out a line of words with both hands, quickly deleted it, typed out another line, and deleted it word by word, the kind of feeling that I didn't use words enough and worried that she would fall asleep without replying, like the last ten minutes of the college entrance examination.

That night, she sent five sentences, and I sent four sentences, of which she and I both sent a sentence - good night! I don't know when she slept that night, and I don't know how many times I tossed and turned before I fell asleep with the corners of my mouth slightly raised.

After the first conversation, there is a second, a third......

I talked with Yiren from Sanmao's "The Story of the Sahara" to Zhang Ailing's "Love in a Fallen City", and then from the love story of Sanmao and Jose to the love story of Zhang Ailing and Hu Lancheng......

She admires Sanmao's free and uninhibited and free and easy feelings of wandering the world, and she also dreamed of meeting a person like Jose to accompany her to continue to write the story of the rest of her life.

When I met Yiren, it was just like what Zhang Ailing wrote on the back of the photo she gave to Hu Lancheng: when she saw him, she became very low, very low, low to the dust, but her heart was joyful, and flowers bloomed from the dust.

The difference is that I was low to the dust and did not blossom.

The place where I was able to share a room with her was at a breakfast shop in front of the school, and she knew a friend of mine, and by chance, we also sat at the same table. She doesn't like chili peppers and sticky rice, so every time she says you eat slowly, let's go first, I can always see chili peppers left in her bowl.

Don't ask me why it's the girls who eat it first every time, I think you already have the answer in your heart.

I was a freshman in high school that year, and she was also a freshman in high school.

Later, I began to take the first place in the whole grade, won the three good student awards, and published articles in the school newspaper, not for anything else, just so that when the teacher came to the stage to accept the award on the playground where all the teachers and students were in the school, she could hear my name and know who I was.

Even though I am a collection of thousands of honors, but when I see her, I still don't dare to look into her eyes, even if I am lucky enough to be able to talk to her face-to-face, I admire my own actor-level acting skills, I can do it with a calm and calm face.

It wasn't until I saw her walking with one of my classmates from a distance in the late autumn evening that I took off all my disguise and ran on the playground track until I was exhausted.

From that night on, I knew that she and I were destined to be a sad story.

Soon it was time for the college entrance examination, but I dropped the chain at a critical moment and got a score that disappointed my family and teachers. Falling to the bottom, I had to embark on the road of repeating my studies and met another girl in my life.

Her name is Mu Xi, and she has been at the same table with me for a while, and she always likes to run to me to ask me when she encounters problems, but I began to become silent and silent because of the failure of the college entrance examination, and I am indifferent to other things except studying.

In addition to being sentimental, I began to turn my thoughts into trickling words, but every time I lifted the pen, my mind was full of Yiren's smile, and the more I wanted to erase her from my memory, the clearer her image became.

I wanted to go with the flow and leave it all to time, believing that time can dilute everything, but I was wrong, and it is only today that I understand that it is not time that can dilute everything, but myself.

After another college entrance examination, we all went to different cities.

In my freshman year, I wrote a youth campus romance novel based on my own personal experience with my friends. Also in this year, no matter what problems Mu Xi encounters in learning, he also likes to ask me through QQ video, and we have a communication on QQ almost every day that year.

One morning, I got up and turned on my phone, and what jumped into my eyes was a message from Mu Xi, she asked me if I would like to be her boyfriend, I didn't feel very surprised, but there was a wry smile on my face.

Although it was April Fool's Day, I knew it was a true saying, in fact, long before that, I knew her mind from the praise and comment on every word she said to me in the space, from the words she chatted with me, and from the fact that she asked me for help whenever she had a problem.

I just kept pretending to be stupid, pretending not to understand her extraneous voices, and in her, I saw a shadow of my former self, the bystander who would immediately rush in adrenaline as soon as I heard the name of the person I liked. She was braver than me, she dared to show her heart to the person she liked, and I kept waiting.

Maybe the result will be disappointing, but I'm sure she won't have any regrets.