"It's only now that I understand that the passion of youth is always wrapped in regret. You don't have to be trapped in regrets when you were in the fog of the past. Summer's secret love, love, and miss may be footnotes of growth - no need to delve into it, no need to wonder, just remember the numb itch when the summer wind blows on the cheek." Years later, as soon as Ji Nan finished writing the last sentence, he closed his notebook and rubbed his sore eyes. The wind rustled the pages, and finally stopped on the title page: three little people holding hands, the corners of their clothes were drawn flying, as if they were about to run out of the paper.
Ji Nanyi, Lin Xia, and Chen Yutong met at the back door of the classroom in late spring. At that time, Lin Xia was tiptoeing to reach the blackboard eraser. Chen Yutong reached out to give her a hand, while Ji Nanyi picked up the knocked-off chalk. The three hands briefly touched each other in mid-air, like three meteors crashing into each other's youth. They shared half an eraser together by the playground, discussed wrong questions under the moonlight after evening self-study, and watched each other grow from a kid with braids to a troubled teenager. But youth is never a smooth glass bead, there will always be cracks: the notebook dropped on the ground during the quarrel, the corridor deliberately avoided during the cold war, and the "I'm sorry" stuck in the throat.
"That summer ended not only with you, but also with you, my entire youth."
