——Typos are the worst confession of youth
In the midsummer when the cicadas are roaring, a non-existent name - "Lin Chan" - will always appear in the homework of Jiang Yubai, a transfer student in Class 3 of Senior High School. Everyone knew that the girl who sat by the window and never took off her earphones was named Lin Chan, but no one noticed the ink stains on the tip of the boy's pen next to the word "worm" when he corrected her test paper with a red pen.
He remembered that afternoon when the sky was wrinkled by the sun, Lin Chan tiptoed to take down the "Insect Illustrated Book" from the top floor of the library, and the cicada-shaped birthmark hidden in the broken hair on the back of his neck flashed past. And she would never know that in the iron box locked deep in Jiang Yubai's desk, the backs of the wings of seventeen cicada specimens were written with words that could only be seen clearly using a microscope: "At the 7th second, I forgot to breathe again."
When the heavy rain cut off the chirping of the cicadas, he finally stopped her in the corridor: "Classmate Lin Chan's cicada... Is it next to the word "worm" or the word "show"? She pulled off her dripping earphones and heard her deafening heartbeat - it turned out to be a bit misplaced, and time had long turned into a romance of precise sniping.
