When it rains in the countryside, there is a large vat in grandma's yard with water lilies in it, and when raindrops fall on the lotus leaves, they resemble crystal-clear beads, which then tip off the leaves as they tilt.
Fu Ying leaned on the table, holding her phone and looking at it. He sent her a photo of the bus stop across from their high school and added a line: Let's take our wedding photos here if we ever get married.
Fu Ying stared at that text, burying her face in her arms and giggled for a long time.
That stop held so many of her secrets; she would sit there sketching him, daydreaming about him, and, fortuitously, meeting him there.
Fu Ying still recalls the first time she bumped into him at the station; he had a cigarette in his mouth and looked a bit off, and she blurted out "mister" in her fluster.
Marriage.
What a beautiful word.
Fu Ying tapped lightly on her phone screen and replied with one word.
