Can’t Quit You

In the serene twilight, the expansive screen of the computer flickered with the initial booting sequence. The autumn chill brought with it a few segments of leisure, finally allowing the completion of the project's calibration report. She picked up a personal token, her fingers brushing against the institution's emblem engraved on the metallic surface—only one person ahead now. By nightfall, she could finally sense a moment of peace, feeling her own amber eyes were more profound than the mechanical orbs of the automatons. She gathered her belongings, turned off the office lights, leaving the building in a state of tranquil dimness, with only the bioluminescent glow of the algae illuminating the exit. A sense of unease grew inside her as she pressed the elevator button, waiting for the passage that would conclude her day. She reached her floor swiftly, her gaze fixed on the elevator's digital panel as it chimed at her destination, her heart quietly racing with anticipation. Stepping out into the grand lobby, a slight figure's reflection danced in, its silhouette casting a long shadow that seemed to question the looming twilight. "Otherwise, it's your turn, isn't it?" she whispered. "Puzzling indeed, how did you arrive?" she pondered aloud. "Otherwise, I thought it was you," she concluded. She initiated the dialogue with the grace of a swan, "Speak, then. What's the matter?" "Then that 'Otherwise,' wasn't it you who helped me with the correspondence last time?" "Alright then," "The man came back and threw me into turmoil, saying I should leave for Tuscany and not contact my friends anymore, so as not to affect my studies." Autumn's mood darkened, "No worries, I won't sell my performance short." Breezy, Elaine settled comfortably, "Otherwise, take me along next time." "Ahem, ahem," "Sir, I'm not a drama student. You might as well find a student from the film and television academy to accompany you." Breezy, Elaine was defiant, her tone sharp: "Calm down, calm down, think back, when someone was returned to the economic cycle due to the right of residence, it was me standing by my ancestral strength, saving them; when someone's project fell through, it was me bringing this..." She spoke of the difficult times, the allies in the high streets, the more traveled roads where the defiant looked on. Autumn faced the harsh reality, not a single solution in sight. "Stop, stop, stop, dear little friend, I've already gone, the upstairs room missed you, you're the guest from afar who came into my life." "Leo Leo, I'm well aware that my destiny is to be an elegant, kind-hearted nobleman's son, always ready with a sword to help, we've grown together since we were little, never hesitating to lend a hand for my cause!"During their first year of university, Lei had already received countless confessions from others, but the person who truly caught their heart was not among them. Instead, it was as an object of secret admiration, an unrequited love. On Saturday, they went to a fifth-generation café. The autumn chill made Lei's half-hour walk to the café somewhat refreshing. Sitting in the café, preparing to welcome the autumn breeze, Lei looked effortlessly elegant, with a natural grace that seemed to brighten the room. Lei's face wore an expression of gentle indifference, hiding their true feelings beneath a veneer of calm. Lei's appearance was striking, with deep black eyes that sparkled with a dark hue, lips a pale shade of pink, and hair cut short, giving them an air of youthfulness, as if they were still in their late twenties. Dressed in a long, green coat over a beige turtleneck, the contrast highlighted a tall, slender figure; red high heels completed the look, adding a touch of elegance. Was this the new trend among the youth? Lei mused quietly to themselves, their voice trailing off: "If you're good, try calling 888 for a reservation to find out where I've walked." Their attire, reminiscent of the 1950s yet unmistakably modern, suggested a blend of eras – a "national style" with a contemporary twist. Passing through the hallway of memories to booth "8", 888 reservations in a building of thirty floors, Lei invited you to join them. "Thank you, sorry for the trouble," they said, their voice carrying a hint of gratefulness, ignoring the targets of gossip behind them, and proceeded to lead the way to the booth with a confident and self-assured step. "Hey kiddo, good to see you, this is house 888 calling, hoping you're using the dinner plate carefully." Little Bao replied, turning and walking away. Autumn thought to herself, dressing up, even her close friends couldn't recognize her. She gently pushed open the gate to house 888. The decoration inside the room, the brilliant colors on the wall decorations, the long dining table in front was set with two distinguished silver candlesticks, the sunlight passed through the yellow curtains into the room, as if day as night, she could hardly believe she was not mistaken in place. How come there's no one inside? Could this boy be lonelier than herself? Autumn pondered deeply. She closed the door behind her, undecided whether to stay or leave. Suddenly, she saw a young man wearing a custom-made mustard-colored suit, confidently stepping on the cobblestone path in front. His public demeanor was relaxed, with a slight upward tilt of his chin, his colorful tie giving off a kind of indescribable charm and confidence. The most striking was his left hand casually holding a pair of amber-colored glasses, casually twirling them on his long fingers, contrasting, one white, one amber, forming a captivating visual feast, making people linger. There should be an applause, he raised his head, the clean light poured into her eyes. In the deep winter of the north, inside a warm tavern, a man with a simple look that could freeze over was sitting there. How cold it must be, not even going to the icebox, makes one shiver just thinking about it. The frost continued, but the cold was bearable, the small fireplace crackling with the warmth of a gentle fire, making it not so unbearable. The northern man's skin wasn't frozen, revealing the cost of enduring the cold with a slightly reddened face. Seeing a human looking so earnestly softened someone's heart, transforming their originally indifferent expression into one not seen for a long time, as if they were seeing their own youth reflected. The heart of the northern man was troubled, feeling caught in this dilemma, wondering if there was someone else who felt more intensely about him, which was quite the thought. His expression was cold as usual, without any sign of warmth, sitting on the other side of the room, determinedly watching the northern scenery. The two of them, in this way, one after another, longingly looked at each other. During the time of their gaze, the whole person was in a vacuum: the pork eaten a few days ago was not bad, "the bean paste of the South Store is also very rich," and finally, "the spicy chicken of the West Mountain is quite good." Thinking over and over, she finally couldn't help but sigh with the warmth of the steam, even using her hand to wipe the mist from her glasses. Xiao Bai looked deeply at the person in front of him, immersed in thought. Suddenly, he was stirred by the thought: "Did we pass that dinner spot on the way here?" Standing there, he let out a long sigh, his gaze wandering far into the distance, eyes not focusing on the vast nothingness beyond. Her silhouette against the dimming twilight seemed almost ethereal, her stature towering yet gracefully delicate, a rare combination indeed. Was it merely height that set him apart? Or was it the ethereal aura that seemed to elevate him even higher, a presence undeniably commanding? He watched her movements, her aura undiminished by the journey ahead, standing firmly facing him. His gaze lingered, words exchanged in a manner that conveyed respect and admiration, a bond seemingly strengthened in silence. The chill of autumn seemed to long for the warmth of summer, the dust of memories swirling in the air, yet their words remained unspoken, their understanding mutual. As the waterwheel turned tirelessly, marking time in its constant motion, ten minutes passed in such silent communion. It was as if the lingering fragrance of tea brought them back to reality, the sound of her voice low and soothing, "What is your name?" His expression, momentarily puzzled, was like that of one awakened from a dream: "Ethereal, indeed." Then, as if a moment of realization dawned upon him, he added a soft, "Thank you." With a smile, "Wen Yu." He then took a sip of water, his expression serene, as if to say, "The name is Wen Yu, remember it well, listen carefully." She smiled slightly, her demeanor unchanged, "Thank you." And so, amidst the unchanging scenery, a simple exchange of gratitude echoed, marking a moment of mutual understanding and respect.As autumn deepens, I find myself ensnared in melancholy, speaking in whispers to no one in particular. No need for grand gestures; for fresh wounds simply invite salt. Two-thirds of a lifetime has passed, and Nanjing might still resemble the serene beauty of the Northern Song dynasty, with its clear skies watched over in silent admiration, unmarred by the sound of leaves. This person, inexplicably drawn to the arcane, finds joy in the unlikeliest of places. Wouldn't you agree? What spell has been cast to foster such a fondness for the grand sciences among the ordinary? With a single breath, decisions are made to embrace a change of seasons.