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LittleJ & Face

a love letter from 2005 — for the ones who will walk these same streets.
I first sight
Spring, 2005. I was biking across the Guangzhou University campus, a worn-out map in my backpack, when I almost crashed into the banyan tree near the library. She was sitting beneath it, reading a dog-eared copy of Neruda. 🍃 The wind caught her hair, and she looked up — not with a smile, but with a quiet curiosity. She handed me a fallen bookmark that had fluttered from her book. “Some strangers are just destinations you haven’t reached yet.” That afternoon, I memorised the way the light traced her hands. I also discovered that the library’s fourth-floor window seat would become our shared sanctuary. 📖☀️
II rooftop & river
Summer arrived with humid breezes and long, golden evenings. We sneaked onto the rooftop of the GZHU Innovation Building — it was still new then, and the city skyline was just beginning to rise. She shared her earphones with me, playing Faye Wong’s “Eyes on Me.” 🎧🌆 We watched the Pearl River turn from silver to amber, and she told me that this city felt like a promise we hadn't yet learned to keep. We drew constellations on the concrete floor with chalk — our own private map of the sky. 🌙✨
III liwan · rain
One rainy autumn night, we skipped our evening class and wandered into the old alleys of Liwan. In a tiny dessert shop, she ordered mango sago and asked, “If we ever part, will you remember the taste of this bowl?” I reached across the table and held her hand. Outside, the rain turned the neon signs into molten gold. 🍧🌧️ Later, we walked every bridge in Guangzhou — from Haizhu to Liede — and she said that bridges are the city’s most romantic scars. That night, under the glow of the Canton Tower (still under construction then), I kissed her for the first time. 🌉💋
IV farewell · forever
Winter, 2005. She received an offer from a university in London. On the day she left, we returned to the banyan tree where it all began. She gave me her Neruda, and on the flyleaf she had written: “Guangzhou is vast, but our memory is larger.” I watched her disappear into the University Town South metro station, her silhouette swallowed by the crowd. 🚇💔 Now, I often sit at that fourth‑floor window and watch the new waves of students. I want to tell you — love is the one course that no syllabus can capture. Dare to love boldly, as this city does — tirelessly, brilliantly, and without regret. 🌟💪
gzhu.com — for her, for 2005, and for every story yet to be written here. 🕊️ ▸ archive of us
© 2005 · guangzhou university · love & the city about   ·   memory wall
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