There are roads in the mountains of books

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As soon as the words fell, I staggered and fell onto the sofa with twice the weight.

"I know, going abroad doesn't mean that Xianyu has turned over. You are already excellent, as long as you are given a chance, you can do well." I looked up dizzily, feeling proud and proud of her from the bottom of my heart. Happy.

Exam-oriented education is her heart knot, and it is also my heart knot.I used to stubbornly believe that she was excellent, even to the point of deceiving myself.

Because only in this way, I will feel better.I don't want to believe that the girl I like is a big fool—but as a person who is well-versed in exam-oriented education, the standard I used to measure people was really only narrow grades.

Now, life has taught me great diversity.But I was delighted to find that her life coincided with mine, and she could really do it.

Like a wish come true.

It's not that she's stupid, but that the school's learning pace doesn't suit her.She was just walking when others were learning to run.When the textbook opened to the periodic table of elements, she couldn't even tell the difference between water and liquid.

So, showing up at the wrong time, in the wrong place, or in the wrong pose is no excuse to give up.Have the courage to adjust your confidence and rhythm in the face of gaps—it is very important for both learning and life.

I turned over to show my attitude, kept my last sobriety before falling into the abyss again, and adjusted my rhythm.

Chapter 25

Disorganized computer folders, illogical scientific research ideas, my day is extremely chaotic.

But what does it matter.

Switching from the soft sofa at the desk to the small room that is as warm as spring, the comfortable quilt caresses my stiff and sore back.

"Tell me a story too." She nestled under the quilt and squeezed into the same pillow with me intimately.

"what story?"

"Anything is fine, I want to hear your story." She closed her eyes and put her head in my arms.

I didn't speak for a moment.He bowed his head and pinched her slender fingers, and when the fingertips touched the fingertips, there was a joyful jump at the skin contact.

I do have many stories, funny and boring, happy and sad, things she has never heard of, things she has heard a little bit about, but I don't want to tell them all.

"I'll tell a story about us." I stood up slightly with my arms supported, and looked down into her eyes from a close distance, "A story that is about to happen."

I have thought about thousands of elegant and tender words, and when the opportunity came, it was action that prevailed.Yes, what else is there to say.

There was a sweet ambiguity in the air, I kissed her until the two gradually sank, and the tense heartstrings broke instantly.

"Can you?" I asked softly.

"En." She nodded gently, her eyes were as bright as ever before, shining like stars.

-

When I was in high school, a very thrilling incident happened at home.

The culprit was a locked diary.

The ignorant time of youth, the age when boys and girls expressed their emotions passionately, I stayed in the room alone, pouring my thoughts and love into it.

Of course, someone has a code name.But my feelings are passionate, and my distress is extremely sincere, so I must never tell others.

Everything was natural and secretive, until one day in the classroom, I fumbled my pockets bored.The other kind of relaxed feeling gradually became strange, my pupils shrank, and my mind was stunned.

I left my diary key at home.

My limbs went from numb to cold, and I felt as if I was sitting on pins and needles. The noisy sound of reading was blurred in the background, getting farther and farther away, leaving only the haze above my head, like the calm before a storm.

I rode my bicycle and flew home, panting and climbing up to the fourth floor.Across the gap between the stainless steel pillars of the anti-theft door, my mother is cleaning the hall, and the warm interior decoration is suffocating for the first time.

"Mom." I pretended to be nonchalant and pushed open the door, forcefully suppressing the panic in my heart.

"Yo, are you back?" She put down the vacuum cleaner and wiped the sweat from her brow.The face is as happy as ever, with the joy of returning home, and nothing unusual can be seen. "Don't you have to study at night today?"

"...I want it," I came back to my senses, "I left something at home, come back and get it."

"What is it?" She asked blankly, "Let me drive it to you next time. How hard it is for you to come and go. Why don't you repair it late?"

After entering high school, my mother changed her previous attitude, and her attitude towards my studies changed from occasionally caring to very concerned, but the direction was the opposite—she always advised me not to study.

"It's okay." I waved my hand in embarrassment, ran to the room and locked the door.

The diary key lay quietly in the middle of the desk, dazzling against the empty light yellow background.

I suddenly regretted my habit of clearing the table.The neat textbooks and stationery are stacked far away on the corner of the table, and there is no trace of mess and abnormality.I lay down on the table and looked left and right, racking my brains to remember, but fortunately and unfortunately, I found nothing.

There are no weird clues, but this perfect scene makes me more and more flustered.

I opened the diary, and the writing stayed in the strange dream I had yesterday.In the middle of the endless sea, waves lapped against the rocks.In the comfortable and free time and space, I acted boldly and freely, and kissed her lips under the blue sea and blue sky.

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