In the autumn campus, there’s always a kind of tranquil and gentle atmosphere. Leaves cover the path, and the sunlight filters through the swaying branches, casting golden shadows on the ground, as if telling a story that has not yet begun.

In her third year, Yu Yao liked to sit alone on the bench beside the library to read. It was her secret haven. There was no noisy crowd, no friends to disturb her, just a giant parasol tree shading her from the intense sunlight.

One day, as Yu Yao was opening a novel, a crisp voice suddenly came from beside her: "You like sitting here too?"

She looked up and saw a boy standing not far away. He was wearing a light blue denim jacket, holding a cup of coffee, and had a warm smile on his face.

"Yeah, it's a quiet place," Yu Yao nodded, her gaze returning to the book.

The boy didn’t leave. Instead, he sat on the other side of the bench, keeping a comfortable distance from her. He took out a notebook and began writing and sketching. Occasionally, he would look up at the sky, seemingly searching for inspiration.

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A few days later, Yu Yao noticed that the boy always appeared there. Sometimes he would greet her, but most of the time, the two of them would sit in silence, each doing their own thing.

One day, the boy suddenly asked her, "Do you believe in fate?"

Yu Yao was taken aback and put down her book. "Fate?"

"Yeah, like how we meet every day—could it be a coincidence, or is it something destined?" He squinted, a mischievous smile on his face.

Yu Yao wasn’t used to such direct questions, and shyly replied, "Maybe… it’s a coincidence."

"Coincidences are too boring," he sighed, "I’d rather believe it’s fate. After all, I came here for you."

Yu Yao’s face instantly turned red. She stared at him, not knowing how to respond.

He smiled, handing her a piece of paper. "This is my number. If you’d like, you can text me. By the way, my name is Lin Xing."

Yu Yao took the paper, looking at the number, her heart in a tangled mess.

A week passed, and Yu Yao didn’t have the courage to send a message. But Lin Xing seemed to understand, and during this time, he didn’t appear at the bench again. Yu Yao thought that their brief "connection" might have ended just like that.

Until one day, as Yu Yao was walking back to the dorm, she saw Lin Xing standing under a parasol tree. He was holding a postcard and seemed to be waiting for someone.

She walked over, and as soon as Lin Xing saw her, he smiled. "So you’re here. I thought I’d have to search for a few more days."

"Looking for me?" Yu Yao was confused.

Lin Xing handed her the postcard. "This is for you. It has something I want to say."

Yu Yao took the postcard. On it, there was only one sentence: "If the falling leaves are the signal of our meeting, then this autumn, can it be just for us?"

As Yu Yao read the words, her heart seemed to be gently swept by a warm breeze. She looked up into Lin Xing's eyes, a smile slowly appearing on her face. "Sure."

The leaves from the parasol tree fluttered down, as if witnessing the quietly blooming story between them.

Later, the parasol tree became their date spot. From that autumn on, Yu Yao was no longer sitting alone on the bench, and Lin Xing’s notebook was filled with the little things that belonged to both of them.