intersection. Past tense. Lip studs, tail rings, rings, ear piercings. Piano and guitar. Warmth and cold collide. Midsummer night, white gardenias. Sunny day, half of summer. Green camphor trees, blurred spots of hazy light. There are cicadas singing. The long time is zoomed out by the lens as long as the century, and the blood is flowing in the blood vessels, viscous and silent. It is still a sunny and beautiful world. Beside the road, Su Banxia's fine bangs fluttered in the wind like floating clouds, and her white but old skirt fluttered in the desolate air, secretly enchanting.

Her indifferent aura set off her slightly pale skin, and her slender and fair fingertips were painted with black and glossy nail polish. The sun refracts on it, bright but lonely. On her clean earlobe, there were small still obvious piercings, one connected to the other, leaving a cruel but clear pain. The slightly yellowed shoulder-length hair floated in the breath of summer, thin but radiant, as beautiful as blooming flowers. It is such a crossroads. The silent air is flowing slowly, people come and go, passing by, the eardrums are always buzzing and vibrating, and the sound of the pulse flows through the whole body along with the pulsation of the blood vessels.

The bus arrives. Summer is hot. Zhiwei got out of the bus together with the crowd of people, the huge body of the bus monster left, and she returned to the hard surface. In her hand she held three balls of ice cream, orange, green and pink. Just like that, she quietly lowered her head and passed the girl in a white skirt with black nail polish. It's like a long movie shot, quietly zooming out with the length of the whole century, and then zooming out again. The skirt of Zhiwei's uniform fluttered lightly, her warm and harmless clear eyes, and her soft and bright black long hair clung to her ears obediently.

Daphne's new shoes, NIKE's white backpack, and a crystal-clear exquisite watch. The corners of her mouth rose slightly. Step forward briskly. Zhiwei walked, passing by Lu Chuanzi who was sitting on the railing of the road. With a skirt of gardenia fragrance, the skirt is flying. next to the road. White railing. Figures of people hurrying back and forth. The focal length of a movie lens slows down again. Like a wonderful and mysterious magic box. little by little. In the middle of a noisy crowd. White maintenance railing. Lu Chuanzi squatted lazily on it, with the corners of his mouth raised evilly, his white T-shirt was so pure white that his eyes were blinded, he was wearing a Bluetooth headset, and a high-pitched ROCK song was playing on his Sony Ericsson 3300WC music phone.

His bleached face set off a more beautiful pupil with endless eyes, and he didn't mind the messy yellow hair being blown away by the wind. The dazzling lip stud on the lips pierced the eyes of passers-by, and the slender and smooth fingers rested on the shoulders of the girl beside him, twitching the corners of his mouth playfully. Lu Chuanzi's smile jumping in the sun was thin and pale. ——Now, behold, such little by little encounters. Sadness begins metaphorically. she. she. he. And him, him, and him somewhere in the city. now. The world spins and fits together. Puzzle pieces are generally tightly connected.

At last…… It is fixed by glue and cannot be pulled off. ——What you have is such a world.