It was just a love letter; I'm really no great writer!

Inside the Penguin Coastal Building in Shenzhen.

After working continuously for eight hours at his workstation, Yu Zhou sent the finalized document to his supervisor.

"Done!"

The evening light shone through the glass curtain wall.

He leaned back in the ergonomic chair, easing his aching and numb body, and casually picked up his phone to scroll through short videos to relax.

Slide your finger.

A short video with 53 likes took up the screen.

The familiar classroom, the messy desks and chairs, the stacked textbooks, and the students' innocent yet vibrant faces in their blue and white school uniforms.

The camera shakily pans, they chatter and laugh, they are youthful, silly, and full of energy.

Yu Zhou couldn't help but laugh: "Huaizhong High School hasn't changed at all. It's been ten years since I graduated..."

The webpage on the whiteboard screen was a popular three-line love letter competition.

Yu Zhou said with great interest: "Three-line love poems? This class actually has students who made it into the top ten. No wonder it's Huaicheng No. 1 Middle School."

With the appearance of a handsome young man.

Yu Zhou was shocked.

"Holy crap, he swept three seats by himself, his writing is really good... I even voted for Tingyou Pipashu!"

With encouragement from his classmates, the boy confessed his feelings to a lovely girl, and everyone around him beamed with smiles.

Yu Zhou smiled like an aunt, "These kids born in the 2000s are getting bolder and bolder, making such a ruckus, aren't they afraid of their teachers...?"

People don't feel tired when they're doing bad things.

As the boy confessed his feelings, the atmosphere in the audience became increasingly heated and sensational.

"Am I a Zuo Hanzhi supremacist?" Yu Zhou was shocked and sighed sincerely, "The feelings back then were so pure."

Suddenly, a fierce-looking woman appeared in the video and shouted at everyone to leave.

"Haha, who brought the principal here?"

Yu Zhou was gloating, but when he saw her face, he was stunned. "Zheng Qianyun... she's a school principal now?"

Back in school, Yu Zhou ran into this senior a few times. Once, he mustered up the courage to talk to her, and the feeling of his heart pounding in his chest is still unforgettable.

Turning off the video, Yu Zhou opened the high school class group chat; the latest message was from ten years ago…

As the sun set, a smile played on his lips as he drifted into fond memories.

……

Class 6, Grade 11.

The sounds of desks and chairs being dragged and rubbed against each other were incessant in the classroom.

To set up the college entrance examination venue, only thirty sets of desks and chairs can be left. Any extra desks and chairs must be moved out, and the mountain of textbooks must be cleared away.

"Finally, it's vacation time!" Zheng Yue exclaimed excitedly.

"What's there to be happy about? Once the seniors finish their exams, we'll be in our second year of high school," Meng Lu said, pouting.

"What's the rush? There are still two years left." Zheng Yue looked down the corridor and saw a sparse crowd surging towards the school gate.

"Don't secretly roll them when you go back home for the holidays," Yuan Binbin said with a smile.

"Is Ran-ge going home?" Zheng Yue asked, turning her head.

Lu Ran, who had just helped Zuo Hanzhi move books, walked out of the classroom with his jacket zipper half open, showing a casual air: "Going home, I haven't been home for a month, I'm craving my mom's chopped chili fish head."

"Hehehe, I want to go to Ran-ge's house for a free meal." Yuan Binbin chuckled and sidled up to him.

"I want to join in too!" Zheng Yue said, not wanting to be left behind.

"...Damn it, you two dead gays." Lu Ran took off running like a wild horse.

Unlike some students who carry a basketful of books and test papers during the holidays.

Lu Ran carried a flute on his back, intending to go back to Century Community to pack some clothes and return home empty-handed.

Oh, and take the money—

In early June, Yue0 paid out the after-tax royalties for May ahead of schedule, and Teacher Tian transferred 540,000 yuan to him...

What I'm saying is that the amount in my account has seriously exceeded 800,000.

How does it feel?

To not return home in wealth and honor is like wearing fine clothes at night!

……

There were quite a lot of people after entering the subway.

Lu Ran leaned against a corner, scrolling through his phone with one hand.

Someone forwarded a Douyin video in the class group chat, and he clicked on it to take a look, but he wasn't very satisfied—He Tingting, can you film some handsome guys for me!

The camera lens is crooked and the image is completely blurry.

The comments section, however, pleased him greatly.

"Can't write poetry? I think he's born with a natural talent for poetry!"

"If I looked like this when I was in school, I wouldn't be single now..."

"You'll know when you're old, this is the guy who wrote it."

"Writing a love letter has caused a stir in the poetry world, wow."

"I boldly predict that although he is not very famous now, in a few years this boy will definitely be famous all over the world."

"You're so good with words," Lu Ran thought smugly.

Some sharp-eyed netizens also commented:

"The winner of the three-line love letter contest is named zhz, and the girl Lu Ran confessed to is named Zuo Hanzhi. Anyone know who this is?"

"My goodness! So the first and second place winners are just showing off their love? What's with all the confession stuff?!"

"Let's stop here. Their fairytale romance has nothing to do with us mortals."

Lu Ran was also embarrassed; this generation of netizens is too meticulous.

"etc!"

He suddenly paused, "If this video is released, won't Principal Zheng know that I was teasing her?"

"Lu Ran!!!"

In the teachers' apartment, Zheng Qianyun gritted her teeth as she spoke to Ning Ning on the phone, "How awful! They're treating me like a fool! It was clearly a three-line love letter, but they used some excuse about one of the many things that make parents age to fool me, and it almost made me cry!"

Ning Ning chuckled softly: "Love letters don't necessarily have to be written to lovers; they can also be written to family members."

Zheng Qianyun was furious: "They're daring to mess with us! This kind of precocious romance must be severely punished!"

"He didn't actually have a puppy love relationship, so what reason do you want to use to punish him?" Ning Ning asked.

"I don't care, I can't swallow this."

Zheng Qianyun turned to look at Zuo Hanzhi sitting beside her, "Hanzhi, you're not allowed to get too close to him, understand? He's just a smooth-talking scoundrel!"

"Oh." Zuo Hanzhi was lost in thought.

I got first place, can I make a request of him?

I beat him, but why don't I feel like I've won?

Zuo Hanzhi is a supremacist, hmm, I need to write even more powerful poems to retaliate.

Ning Ning asked on the phone, "Have you read his poem 'Loquat Tree'?"

"..." Zheng Qianyun was stunned.

Of Lu Ran's three love letters, the first one was undoubtedly written to Zuo Hanzhi, while the third one was written to his parents.

Only the second one.

"There is a loquat tree in the courtyard."

"I planted it the year my wife died."

"Now it stands tall and majestic."

To put it simply, there's a loquat tree growing in the courtyard. My wife planted it herself the year she passed away, and now it's lush and tall, standing like a giant open umbrella.

Because the poem is relatively simple and written in classical Chinese, it did not receive much attention online, and there was no background or context to it.

But it still managed to make it into the top three.

Because those who understand will naturally understand, and those who don't understand are better off not understanding.

"Lu Ran's maternal grandmother passed away early, so perhaps this poem is a true reflection of his maternal grandfather's longing for his deceased wife."

Ning Ning sighed softly, "These three simple sentences, devoid of a single word of sorrow, yet they reflect the loneliness of being separated by death and the loss of everything..."

"Poetry, in the end, moves people through its emotions."

Ning Ning's husband, who was also Zheng Qianyun's brother, died in an accident.

After her beloved passed away, no one could ever enter Ning Ning's heart again.

A beautiful woman of her generation chose to fade away alone with the passing years.

"That little rascal..." Zheng Qianyun rubbed the tears from the corners of her eyes.

Although she was reluctant to admit it, Lu Ran's subtle and restrained yet powerful writing deeply touched her heart.

"Auntie, why are you crying?" Zuo Hanzhi asked, bewildered.

"Who's crying? I haven't agreed to your relationship with Lu Ran yet!" Zheng Qianyun said fiercely.

"What's between me and Lu Ran?"

"...Anyway, you can't date before your aunt, understand!"

It's all Lu Ran's fault!

Zheng Qianyun decided to change her mood.

Fortunately, there's the new book on Rainy Night, which can offer some solace to my wounded heart.

"The Eagle and the Condor" is a historical novel.

In reality, he abandoned the large readership built up by "White Night Walking" and wrote in a martial arts genre that few people had explored.

This is undoubtedly a bold and confident attempt.

Zheng Qianyun was initially skeptical as well.

But if you read on patiently, you can feel the exhilaration of roaming the martial arts world.

For example, the honest and simple-minded Guo Jing meets the clever and mischievous Huang Rong;

For example, the Seven Heroes of Jiangnan, the Quanzhen Sect, the Black Wind Duo, the Southern Emperor, the Northern Beggar, the Eastern Heretic, the Western Poison, the Mount Hua Sword Tournament...

With combat power increasing layer by layer and the protagonist constantly growing stronger, the author, like a skilled storyteller, constructs a rich and complete martial arts world.

It is evident that the author possesses a profound knowledge base and cultural background.

Moreover, he's from Huaicheng, which is very close to me...

"Hey Brother Rainy Night, are you free this week?"

Zheng Qianyun's mind wandered. Would he be a handsome middle-aged man? Or a refined scholar? Or a long-haired artist?

Ideally, the age difference shouldn't be too much older than yourself.