In midsummer, when the cicadas were noisy, the leaves of the sycamore trees were shining brightly in the sun. When Chen Lu ran into Ling Zhi for the first time, he was leaning against the basketball stand and looking up to drink water. As his Adam's apple rolled, water droplets slid along his jawline into the sweat-soaked collar of his school uniform.
Later, she always heard the chirping of cicadas in the sultry afternoons, accompanied by the wind brought by the boy when he ran across the corridor, the soft sound of the chalk tip hitting the blackboard, and the mint-flavored candies he quietly stuffed into her desk.
The names hidden on the back of the draft paper, the sycamore path we walked side by side after evening self-study, and the unspoken love in the chirping of cicadas became the hottest secret of that summer - until that night, under the stars, he whispered along with the sound of the wind, and she finally heard her heartbeat overshadowing the chirping of the cicadas, and heard the words "I like you" that were swept away by the wind.
