With a slight force on his arm, amidst her exclamation, he laughed and lifted her up.
"Hey! If you keep this up, I'm going to get mad!"
"Then get mad, let me see how cute you look when you're angry."
"You...!"
"Hahaha—"
The playful sounds spread along the quiet sycamore path.
"Plop—" A hint of coolness fell on her flushed cheek.
Her long eyelashes fluttered.
Xie Shuyu looked up.
"Plop, plop plop—"
Sparse raindrops began to fall from the gray sky.
They hit the withered sycamore leaves and the cold stone path, creating small circles of water ripples.
[Over the river the faint clouds fade, sparse rain falls on the sycamores.]
This poem, which inspired her name, suddenly emerged in her mind.
At this moment, she seemed to truly return to her university days.
Back then, she too wandered alone like this on a drizzly afternoon.
Walking along the path lined with French sycamores at Jinling University.
