Why...
This time, Ji Yanche didn't answer her. He just quietly stared at her, and then his cheeks reddened more and more.
He clenched his left hand into a fist, lightly coughed against the corner of his lips, and looked away, "Can you say something else?"
Always asking why, why. Is she a hundred thousand whys?
In the second semester of sixth grade, Ji Yanche and Ruge each immigrated with their families.
One went to America.
One went to France.
For Ji Yanche, even though they were so far apart, it didn't dilute his secret crush on someone.
...
Ji Yanche came back to his senses and continued flipping through the album, looking at each photo related to her.
Suddenly, he closed the album, picked it up, and stood up to leave.
The next day.
Ruge only dozed off in a daze after five in the morning.
She had just fallen asleep when a phone call woke her up.
With her eyes closed, Ruge fumbled for her phone, swiping the screen open and grumbling, "Hello? Who is it?"
