The sycamore leaves in late summer always fall on Su Nian's desk, just like Jiang Yi's white shirt always dangles in her sight.
She is an ordinary girl who stares at the auxiliary lines in math class and hides her unspoken thoughts in her notebook; he is a dazzling young man who sweats on the basketball court and wins prizes in physics competitions. His school uniform cuffs are always rolled up in a casual way.
An accidental picking up of a sweat-stained notebook made two parallel lines begin to intersect. He would quietly turn his pen to remind her when she was called on by the teacher, and would put competition questions filled with problem-solving ideas into her hands, with a clumsy kitten drawn on the note; she would hand him water with the bottle cap unscrewed when he finished playing ball, and would block the dazzling sunlight for him when he lay on the table to catch up on his sleep.
The chirping of cicadas gradually subsides, the autumn wind gradually picks up, and the leaves of the sycamore trees fall and spread again. The graffiti hidden on the back of the scratch paper, the deliberately slow pace in the corridor, and the street lights walking side by side after evening study hall all contain the clearest heartbeats of young people and girls.
It turns out that the greatest secret of youth is that when I looked at you, you happened to turn your head, and your white shirt was covered with debris from the sun.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
