Milk Tea Needs to Be Served with Ice, Love Me Needs to Be Done with All Your Heart

The seventeen-year-old's mind was split in half by a mathematical formula. On the left is the cicada specimen that Su Xiaoman hid under the draft paper, and on the right is the ink mark from the tip of Chen Shuyu's pencil - two souls forcibly merged by fate, casting entangled shadows under the fluorescent lamps in the third row of the classroom. When Lin Yue's canvas shoes crushed the setting sun at the end of the corridor, Su Xiaoman finally saw the tear stains on the back of the test paper. It turns out that the repeatedly overlapping names on the duty schedule, the mints smuggled out during evening self-study, and the coordinate points carved in the cracks of the desks by compasses have already laid the lead for the collapse of the dike between the trigonometric function and the benzene ring structure. Dark red rust oozes from the cracks in the original family, and the countdown to the college entrance examination is like a scalpel hanging above the head. They used correction tape to erase the unfinished passages in their love letters, but when they hung up in the infirmary, they discovered that the same sweetness of iced milk tea was flowing through their veins. Until the night when the heavy rain destroyed the secret base, Chen Shuyu clutched the moldy paper crane and suddenly understood: Youth is a balance that is destined to tilt. Some people hide their heartbeats in a collection of wrong questions, while others freeze their tears into ice in milk tea. When the blackboard erases the last coordinate system, the butterfly stops at the end of midsummer. And the answer waiting in place, can we still piece together the original heartbeat frequency when the cicada song restarts? [The coolness of iced milk tea and the heat of heartbeat will eventually reach a dangerous balance in the folds of youth]