Chapter 139： (1/2)

It was an old yellowed photo, with black and white tones, and a border of a wave pattern that was once fashionable. Although the photo is old, the surface is still smooth and clean, and the owner's intentions can be seen.

The protagonist of the photo is two young people, about 20 years old, at a time of dazzling youth.

They were in a bucket-arch pavilion built near the lake, and one of them was holding poems sitting on a railing, facing the lake, with their feet suspended, and closing their eyes, raising their chins to the rising sun with a bright smile on their faces. With a little shyness in love--

He An recognized it. It was Yan Ning when he was young.

The wrinkles at the end of the eyes are missing, and the decades of wind and frost and mentality are missing. Yanning, 20, is breezy and incomprehensible, like a cloud travelling on the wind, always flying in In the light.

His elated Alpha stood behind, his hands in his pockets, leaning down, leaning his head slightly, as if to kiss his cheek.

Probably not accustomed to showing affection in front of people, but can't hold back lovers to kiss, Alpha showed a reluctant look, but the corners of his lips couldn't help it.

Obviously so much.

Only at this moment's freeze, He An read out the enviable love between them-how could such a pair of tadpoles be so unhappy for decades?

He An couldn't figure it out.

"His name is Hongming, Honghong, bright and bright, we met in college."

Yan Ning looked at Alpha on the old photo and recalled, "I was only eighteen years old at that time, reading literature and history, he was two times higher, and studying business. One night, the school poetry club borrowed a classroom to hold an exchange meeting. I went ahead and copied the poem I was going to share on the blackboard while no one else was in the classroom. Just after the last sentence, Hong Ming came in, guess what? "

He Antuo thought for a while, and somehow came up with a movie-like plot in his head: "He happened to read that poem, and he liked it too much, so ... he was really interested in you?"

"Where is it so romantic?" Yan Ning was teased, "Hongming doesn't read poetry at all."

"What happened then?"

Yan Ning said: "He picked up the blackboard eraser and wiped all the poems I wrote without saying a word. He also told me very seriously that this classroom is going to take an economics discussion class. As a monitor, he has an obligation Please leave unrelated people and don't scribble on the blackboard. Of course I'm not convinced. The poetry society took the classroom borrowed by the formal process. Why do you say that you give it? If you want to take a discussion class, you can borrow it yourself Let ’s go. So I copied the poem again.

"He, holding a blackboard eraser next to it, I copied it, he wiped it, I copied it, he wiped it ... the two men are head-to-head, no one wants to let it go. I still remember it today, it was a song Yeats' poem, called "Silent Silence," has eight lines.

"When I copied it the third time, someone finally came in the classroom. Unfortunately, it wasn't my classmate, but his. I couldn't figure it out. I stood embarrassedly at the blackboard and pondered for a long time. It's tomorrow—it's the day I misremembered. "

He An Renjun could not help.