I was no longer annoyed by the intrusion of the voices next door, and I even looked forward to and enjoyed the panic, excitement, and joy that any sound from the other side of the wall brought me. I don't know if this is the beginning of love, and I don't know if I'm still pure. But I swear, at that time, there was absolutely no evil in my heart. I just stubbornly believe that the essence of my youth is ignited by that voice, and my primal desires are awakened by that voice. I waited so firmly, watched so deeply, missed so sincerely.

In the early hours of that rainy morning, I revised the last word of a feature article and handed it to the editor on duty.

I was too sleepy, so I braved the rain to return to my lodgings.

Zou Jian hasn't come back yet.

He made money during this time and often did not return home at night.

I didn't even wash up, and I stripped off and went to bed exhausted.

As soon as he lay down, a familiar series of babbling sounds came through the wall. It seemed to be a ballad, and the melody was trembling and ethereal. In the cold dawn, the voice was filled with endless grief and sorrow.

I was too tired to refuse, and I struggled to reject the voice. I wrapped myself tightly in the quilt and covered my head tightly with a pillow. But that beautiful sound is like water with the wind, pervasive, seamless and not drilling, full of tenacity and fighting spirit.

I really need sleep, I need sleep, I need sleep......

I couldn't resist the voice. I got out of bed, walked to her room, and knocked on the door.

The voice stopped abruptly.

"Who?" A woman's timid voice came from the room.

"Yes...... I, next door...... "I don't know how to introduce myself."

The door opened slightly, and a young woman appeared at the door.

Through the crack in the door, I saw her wearing a pink transparent silk nightdress, her long black hair like a waterfall flowing on her shoulders, and her eyes were as clear as the deep pond in autumn.

Seeing that it was me, she was a little surprised to see it.

At that moment, my heart was also filled with inexplicable panic, and my voice became faint like a gossamer, "You...... Can...... A little bit of vocal practice? "I think she might not be able to hear me at all.

In fact, she heard it clearly. A red cloud instantly flashed across her face, and she said sorry to me apologetically. Then she pointed out the window and said, "It's been raining, and I can't get out, so I have to practice in the room and make noise about you......"

I said that it was actually nothing, just working overtime all night to write, and I was really sleepy.

She showed more apologies on her face, saying sorry to me again and again, and then, as if curious, she asked me, "What do you do?" What to write? ”

I said I was a journalist and wrote interviews.

"Remember!" She exclaimed in amazement.

A breeze drifted through her with the scent of perfume—a scent I had never smelled before, faint, soft, vague in the air. I sniffed in and felt the sweetness in my chest and heart. I could have turned around and gone back to my room, but an invisible, imperceptible force held me down, and I couldn't take a step. She also seemed to sense my embarrassment, opened the door, smiled at me timidly and shyly, and said, "Or...... In...... Sit? ”

In...... Sit, sit.

This is the simplest, most direct, most unpretentious, most sincere, most warm and seductive invitation I have ever encountered in my life.

Without even a second of hesitation, I bravely stepped into her room.

When the door was gently closed, we saw the fire burning in each other's eyes almost at the same moment. Without any words or hints, we embraced each other with open arms at the same moment......

She's really beautiful.

Her face is round and soft, her body is light and warm, her smile is charming and graceful, her voice is even more dreamlike, and her eyes are rippling with endless loneliness. I believe in a poet who said: Loneliness is what makes a woman so beautiful.

(1000 words omitted here)

"How dare you let me in—sit?" I asked her.

"As soon as I saw you...... It's kind of ...... Don't be reserved. She looked shy. One hand propped up my chin, and the other gently stroked my hair.

It occurred to me that I had knocked on the door wearing only a pair of shorts.

"Take me as a student." I smirked, "I love singing too." ”

"Uh...... Division...... Bear...... Not okay? She echoed me with some shyness.

From that day on, I became a close disciple of the beautiful music teacher. I am her blackboard, let her wipe and doodle; She is my book, I love and read it.

I couldn't believe how I could have acted so boldly and presumptuously at that time, and later, I suspected that the smell of perfume on the teacher's body played a decisive role. So, one day, I went to the Island City Library and found a book about perfumes, and I saw an introduction to a perfume. It's called the Cinnamomum Tree, and it's a special perfume that instantly attracts the opposite sex. The book says that the perfume will immediately cause a magical mood in the other person, followed by a crazy impulse, and finally reach the level of infatuation. The book also says that the person who invented the perfume got a revelation when two pigs sniffed each other - which somewhat disgusted me.

I often sneaked into the teacher's room in the second half of the night to avoid Zou Jian, who was sleeping soundly.

We talked heart-to-heart, forgot about things and self, and hysterically played a symphony of pristine ecology.

She is like a bright wildflower, blooming in my lonely and ignorant youth. Although the time is short, it exudes an unforgettable fragrance.

I buried my head in her chest, greedily sniffing the fragrance. I told her honestly, "I'm in love with you, I'm going to fall in love with you." ”

"Absolutely not!" She pushed me away, her tone firm.

Then, she stroked my hair, as if dingning, as if to say, "I am a ...... Married woman, you can't ...... Fall in love...... I, you...... Be sure to ...... Forget me. Her voice was choked, and tears glistened with tears on her face.

Once again, I wordlessly hugged her and kissed her frantically.

I also suddenly had a feeling of wanting to cry - no love, no loving kisses made me sad.

Until now, I didn't know her name.

All I knew was that she was a music teacher, a married woman, who came to the island city alone to start a music training class. She refused to tell me her name, saying, "It doesn't matter what the name is, just call me teacher." "I know what she means. She didn't tell me her name because of each other's forgetfulness. Yes, she is more sober than I am - we are not destined to be each other's protagonists, we are just each other's passers-by. In life, how much of our past can only be stored in a corner of our hearts, which cannot be turned out, and finally aged, decayed, and turned into ashes with our bodies.

In April of the following year, my teacher told me that I could no longer look for her.

I asked why, and she was a little sad and said that her husband had also come to the island to pick her up.

That evening, a small car drove into the garden, and a tall man walked into the teacher's room.

Zou Jian and I hid in front of the window and watched the teacher and the man get into the car with their luggage.

The moment the car started, the teacher rolled down the window pane and looked at us.

"Your—the goddess—is gone." Zou Jian gloated.

I sat in front of the window, sad, and shed the first line of tears dedicated to love.

……