In the late summer afternoon, the sunlight is like melted amber, sticky and hot. It seeps into every leaf of the century-old sycamore tree in front of Xingyu University, casting swaying light spots on the ground like copper coins. Su Wanxing stood in front of the school gate engraved with "Xingyu University" in four large gilded Chinese characters, her fingertips unconsciously picking at the small thread she had mended on the canvas bag. A gust of wind passed by, and the thick green trees full of trees "clattered" like a sudden green rain. The off-white cotton dress she was wearing was also rippled gently by the wind. In the air is the astringent fragrance of warmed grass, mixed with the sweetness of late-season gardenias in the distant flower beds. This mixed breath flowed into her nose, making her heart feel as if it was soaked in a glass of lukewarm lemon and honey water - it was the embodiment of the sweetness and sourness mixed in when the dream was within reach. "Wingxing! Su Wanxing! Here -" A voice so familiar that it penetrated the noisy human voices. Lin Xiaoxiao was like a flourishing sunflower, wearing a bright yellow large T-shirt and frayed denim shorts, jumping and waving on the edge of the surging crowd.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
