Qifu

I didn't go back home during the Spring Festival holiday, but I still bought a high-speed rail ticket for my high school graduation party for a long time. Back and forth that day, I got up at five o'clock in the morning.

In the fourth day of the junior year, the most unlucky day in the tradition, we all chose to leave it to our friends who were once young, talked about everything and had pure feelings: classmates. Even the head teacher gathered with us at noon, then went to his junior high school party, and then the evening senior high school party.

The teacher in charge, who has always had great power, put us on campus with a phone call. When we revisited the old place, everything was very familiar, and only the class number on the door seemed to change. Looking down the corridor at the door of the classroom, we just saw the chemistry teacher. We were excited to call him. He took out his mobile phone, let us poke our heads out, and took pictures of us against a row of windows upstairs. It was a beautiful feeling. Once all kinds of pictures began to emerge. Although the time that could not go back was a little sad, it was really warm and beautiful.

Ten years later, the teachers seem to have changed little, but they are still so kind. Their smiles, their steps, and their voices are the same as ten years ago. But they are really old, retired, hair loss, and even experienced pain. I don't know what to say to express my feelings for them, but I really want to sit with them more.

There are not many students here. It's really hard to get together these 20 people. I always feel that I have to say goodbye after every party without much words. It seems difficult to understand their current life. Different jobs, different cities of life, and limited leisure time may make it difficult for us to walk into each other's current world, but we have a common past and pure and eternal feelings: this is enough for us to get together again in the next ten years.