Just because I wrote "Zhu Xian," the school beauty sent me razor blades.

November 1st, 7 PM.

The release of "Coral Sea" crashed the servers of many music platforms.

Night fell over the coastal city. In two rented rooms several kilometers apart, two people who had recently broken up simultaneously played the same song.

The guy had just finished working overtime and was sprawled on the sofa. The girl was nestled on the bay window, the evening breeze was cool, her fingertip hovered over the play button, hesitated for two seconds, and then pressed it.

The piano prelude flows gently, like the soft, gentle tide of dawn.

Lin Yuan's deep male voice rang out:

"A haze begins to fall over the distant sea, how can sorrow be calmed and pure? On my face, there is always a faint trace of helplessness."

The boy's fingertips froze.

The song clearly describes that morning at the beach. The horizon was gray and desolate, and the helplessness in her eyes, barely suppressed by her sobs, was palpable. It turns out that the most tormenting thing in adult relationships is never the screaming, but this subtle helplessness.

Rala's ethereal female voice joins in:

"You mouthed that you were leaving, your heart wasn't there, and the sadness subsided silently. The surging tide, you understood, wasn't waves, but a sea of ​​tears."

The girl clutched the blanket tightly, her nose stinging with tears.

That day, her uncontrollable sobs and the grievances she had been suppressing were not just empty words. Surrounded by a crowded sea of ​​people, her world consisted only of a silent, surging ocean of tears.

The harmonies roared together:

"Turning away, unable to say goodbye, unable to express your feelings, the love between a seabird and a fish was just an accident."

The two people in different places had tears in their eyes at the same time.

Three years of long-distance relationship, countless nights of staying up late on the phone, and journeys across mountains and seas—it all turned out to be just a beautiful yet regrettable accident.

"Our love, the love we gave, the differences have always existed, it can't be returned, like dust in the wind, waiting, has accumulated into hurt."

Their love never collapsed suddenly. Repeated missed opportunities to be together, inexplicable differences in values, and unbridgeable gaps in reality accumulated like dust in the wind, little by little, until they formed a massive wound that crushed their relationship.

"Back then, neither of us was mature or honest enough. We shouldn't have. The passion has faded, your smile can't be forced, and love is buried deep in the coral sea."

The boy closed his eyes, his mind filled with images of the beach that day: the words "We're not a good match," and the two figures walking away in opposite directions.

He finally admitted that it wasn't that he didn't love her, but that he was too helpless. Future prospects, reality, and the gap between them—layers of shackles bound him, but he never properly confessed. He could only clumsily make excuses and silently avoid the issue, ultimately pushing her away with his own hands.

The girl stared at the deep night outside the window, tears silently streaming down her face.

She waited three years for a long-distance relationship, longed for a reunion for three years, but what she got in the end was not companionship, but an immature confrontation and a barrier of unwillingness to be honest. It turns out that some separations are not anyone's fault, but simply that the two people's pace, vision, and plans were not on the same wavelength from the beginning.

"How can a destroyed sand sculpture be rebuilt? How can a cracked love be repaired? It's just that everything ended too quickly, and you say you can't let go."

Sand sculptures crumble easily, but broken love is hard to mend. The most regrettable thing in this world is that broken things can never be restored.

As the song ended, the sound of ocean waves in the coda slowly spread out, gentle and lingering, gradually decreasing in intensity, and finally returning to silence.

Just like their relationship that ended without a happy ending, it didn't have a dramatic conclusion and eventually sank into the deep sea quietly.

Only the lingering echo of the headphones remained in the room.

The boy remained silent for a long time, then unlocked his phone and opened her chat window. The pinned chat box showed a conversation that had ended a few days prior, filled with casual pleasantries.

His finger hovered above the screen, deleting and typing. He wanted to post "I think I regret it," to explain the silence and helplessness of that day, but now, all explanations seemed pale and superfluous.

A thousand words were stuck in my throat, and I couldn't utter a single one.

The girl also opened the familiar chat interface. Countless times she wanted to press the key, to ask, "Is this really it?", to give each other another chance.

But when the fingertip touched the screen, it ultimately stopped.

Their problem was never a single argument or misunderstanding; it was a deep-seated misalignment of plans, an insurmountable gap in reality, and the inherent difference between seabirds and fish.

What good will it do to send it out? It might salvage the situation temporarily, but it won't change anything forever.

After a long hesitation, the boy slowly locked the screen and put down his phone. The girl gently exited the chat and turned off the screen.

In the end, no one sent that message of remembrance.

Some love can only be buried deep in the heart; some people can only be met and never seen again.

Meanwhile, the comment sections of major music platforms had already been completely overrun.

It's never about a specific person, but about everyone who has been that seabird or that fish—in some misplaced time and space, earnestly loving someone they "knew they shouldn't have loved." Later, when you listen to "Coral Sea" again, you won't cry, but you'll pause and think: Oh, so I loved that earnestly too. That's enough; your trip to this sea wasn't in vain.

The dialogue between the male and female voices, a question and a response, hardly sounds like singing; it's more like a couple locked in a tense standoff, all their unspoken words stuck in their throats. The silence and helplessness are more devastating than any argument.

The line, "The love between a seabird and a fish was just an accident," brought tears to my eyes. It struck a chord with regrets I'd held for years. It turns out that all unrequited love is filled with helplessness from the very beginning.

[Coral is vibrant yet fades easily; love with cracks can never be repaired. This is written so realistically. Adult separations are never about hysterical arguments, but about silent resignation, helplessness, and a dignified exit.]

[Although the melody is gentle, melodious, delicate, and soothing, it is permeated with an unyielding bitterness and regret. All the unrequited relationships in the world find their reflection in this song.]

A coral sea holds all the unrequited love of all. Seabirds return to the sky, fish sink to the bottom, mountains and seas never meet; their encounter was merely an accident.

Meanwhile, major music critics published articles overnight, providing precise analysis of the core of "Coral Sea".

The most moving aspect of "Coral Sea" isn't its melody, but rather its poignant portrayal of the cruelest reality in adult relationships: loving each other yet being incompatible, harboring unresolved issues yet unwilling to communicate, filled with longing yet unable to overcome the chasm of reality, and filled with regret yet unable to turn back.

Most breakups in the world are not due to hatred or betrayal, but rather stem from deep helplessness, unsolvable barriers, and regret stemming from powerlessness. The song is both gentle and poignant, using the most soothing melody to vividly portray the most heartbreaking farewells, accurately striking a chord with everyone's shared experience.

This poignant love song perfectly captures the most regrettable aspects of love.

Seabirds and fish are ultimately destined to different paths.

Love is buried deep in the mountains and seas; from now on, we will never meet again, and we will never look back on the past.