Walking along the tree-lined path on campus, and hearing the clamor from the distant sports field, Zhao Yi lapsed into memories. He thought about exchanging mathematics with He Mingcheng, his guidance, his care for life, his concern for mathematical research.
Wait a minute.
Every bit, all memories.
That's often how people are.
Normally, Zhao Yi wouldn't think of He Mingcheng much, as their lives didn't intersect often. But now that he had gone, Zhao Yi suddenly remembered so much, and his heart felt a touch of sadness.
Qian Zhijin slowly walked over, lightly patted his shoulder, and sighed, "Elder He lived his whole life, Zhao Yi, and he passed away with a smile, so don't be too sad."
"I am not sad," Zhao Yi replied indifferently, turning his head.
"Is that so?"
Qian Zhijin responded with a phrase.
Zhao Yi nodded, "I was just thinking, why must people experience birth, aging, sickness, and death? Can't we live forever?"