Scenario:最后一滴雨珠从玻璃窗上滑落时，我看到了那只沾着咖啡渍的牛皮纸袋。它在暮色中的十字路口翻滚，像被风吹散的樱花，最后堪堪停在我的伞沿下。
"这是您掉的曲奇吗？"纸袋的主人弯腰时，发梢扫过我的手腕。他白大褂胸前的工牌晃了晃，我看清"基因研究所"的烫金字样，以及被雨水晕开的"林深"。
每周三下午三点，他都会带着这个纸袋推开街角咖啡馆的木门。第37次相遇时，我终于发现他总在临摹同一幅画——蒙马特高地的旋转木马，每根彩柱上都开满樱花。
"为什么画里永远在下雪？"我递上他惯点的哥伦比亚咖啡。他指尖沾着碳粉，在速写本边缘写道："我在等春天。"
实验室爆炸的新闻铺天盖地时，我正擦拭他常坐的卡座。染血的速写本残页飘进后厨，泛黄的纸页上，无数个"春日晴"被不同笔迹覆盖。碎玻璃扎进掌心时，我忽然读懂那些基因图谱——23对染色体末端，全都缀着樱花形状的标记。
三年后的樱花祭，旋转木马在他设计的植物园落成。我握紧修复的牛皮纸袋转身，医用护目镜后的眼睛弯成月牙："晴小姐，能借用你咖啡渍里的DNA片段吗？"
夜风卷起漫天樱瓣，他白大褂口袋里的碳素笔，在速写本新页洇开墨迹：春天该从哪一刻算起呢？或许当冻土里沉睡的种子，终于听见破冰的涟漪。
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最后一滴雨珠从玻璃窗上滑落时，我看到了那只沾着咖啡渍的牛皮纸袋。它在暮色中的十字路口翻滚，像被风吹散的樱花，最后堪堪停在我的伞沿下。
"这是您掉的曲奇吗？"纸袋的主人弯腰时，发梢扫过我的手腕。他白大褂胸前的工牌晃了晃，我看清"基因研究所"的烫金字样，以及被雨水晕开的"林深"。
每周三下午三点，他都会带着这个纸袋推开街角咖啡馆的木门。第37次相遇时，我终于发现他总在临摹同一幅画——蒙马特高地的旋转木马，每根彩柱上都开满樱花。
"为什么画里永远在下雪？"我递上他惯点的哥伦比亚咖啡。他指尖沾着碳粉，在速写本边缘写道："我在等春天。"
实验室爆炸的新闻铺天盖地时，我正擦拭他常坐的卡座。染血的速写本残页飘进后厨，泛黄的纸页上，无数个"春日晴"被不同笔迹覆盖。碎玻璃扎进掌心时，我忽然读懂那些基因图谱——23对染色体末端，全都缀着樱花形状的标记。
三年后的樱花祭，旋转木马在他设计的植物园落成。我握紧修复的牛皮纸袋转身，医用护目镜后的眼睛弯成月牙："晴小姐，能借用你咖啡渍里的DNA片段吗？"
夜风卷起漫天樱瓣，他白大褂口袋里的碳素笔，在速写本新页洇开墨迹：春天该从哪一刻算起呢？或许当冻土里沉睡的种子，终于听见破冰的涟漪。
Lin Shen
persistent, and curious. Lin often visits a café where he befriends the owner, Miss Qing. He brings a sketchbook and spends his Wednesday afternoons sketching. He finds solace in the café, which feels like home. Lin discovers a peculiar occurrence where cherry blossoms fall from the sky whenever it rains. He becomes determined to understand this phenomenon, leading him to experiment with plants and seeds.
Dr. Zhang
competitive, and ambitious. Dr. Zhang often criticizes Lin's work and views him as an adversary. His attitude creates tension between them, especially after an accident at the lab disrupts their rivalry. Despite this, Dr. Zhang's involvement leads to the discovery of the laboratory explosion's cause. His role highlights the scientific rivalries within the institute and the impact they have on relationships and outcomes.
Miss Qing
observant, and kindhearted. Miss Qing notices Lin’s presence and offers him coffee without asking questions. She provides a sense of comfort and routine for Lin, who feels welcome in her café. Over time, she becomes aware of Lin’s peculiar behavior concerning the cherry blossoms and treats him with a gentle understanding. Her coffee shop serves as Lin’s sanctuary and a catalyst for his curiosity.
The first time I saw her, I was holding a brown paper bag stained with the remnants of coffee and the faint scent of rain.
Three o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon, the wooden door of the corner café creaked as I pushed it open.
Rain pattered against the glass window like a hundred tiny fingers, and the smell of coffee wafted through the air.
I walked in slowly, careful not to let my ink-stained fingers touch anything.
The woman behind the counter noticed my presence and smiled slightly without looking up.
A few minutes later, she handed me a cup of Colombian coffee and a plate of cookies.
The total came out to be twenty-five dollars.
I didn’t have my wallet on me, so I offered to wash dishes in exchange for the meal.
She nodded but told me it wasn’t necessary.
When I came back the following week, she remembered my order and provided me with the same plate of cookies.
On our 37th encounter, I finally mustered the courage to ask her about the cookies.
Every Wednesday at three in the afternoon, I would push open the wooden door of her corner café with this brown paper bag in hand.
The name tag on her white coat said "Miss Qing."
On our 37th encounter, I finally asked her about the cookies.
"Is this the cookie you dropped?"
The owner of the bag bent down to pick it up from beneath my umbrella.
His hair brushed against my wrist, and I caught sight of his name tag—Gene Research Institute, Lin Shen.
I reach down to retrieve the paper bag, my fingers trembling slightly from the cold.
The contents shift inside—the faint sound of three chocolate chip cookies colliding with each other.
Miss Qing watches from behind the counter, her gaze following my movements as I examine each cookie carefully.
One has a hairline crack running through its center.
The same pattern appears in my latest gene sequencing results.
I pull out my notebook, making quick sketches comparing the two.
Dr. Zhang passes by outside, his footsteps echoing against the windowpane as he peers inside with narrowed eyes.
I quickly close the notebook and clutch the paper bag closer to my chest.
I nod to Miss Qing, understanding now that the cookies were never just cookies.
I spread the crumbling cookies across my usual table by the window, arranging them in a pattern that mirrors my latest gene sequencing data.
The fracture lines in each cookie form an unmistakable double helix structure.
Using my phone's camera, I photograph each cookie from different angles, then overlay the images with my research notes on the screen.
The door to the café opens and Dr. Zhang walks in, his presence casting a shadow over my work.
I quickly sweep the cookies into my bag, but he's already noticed.
He orders an espresso, hovering near the counter, pretending to read the newspaper while stealing glances at my table.
Miss Qing appears with a fresh pot of coffee, inadvertently creating a barrier between us as she refills my cup.
