In Lin Chuxia's youth, there was always a boy named Jiang Yu.
They are childhood sweethearts who are opposite each other. They are a wonderful combination of "venomous tongue academics" and "confused painters" in the eyes of others. He would despise her for being careless while silently helping her clean up the mess; he would hand her hot milk when she stayed up late to draw, and he would be the first to stand in front of her when she was bullied. Her drawing books are full of his figure, from the dancing back on the basketball court to the focused profile in the library, those unspoken heartbeats quietly ferment in the company day after day.
The wind of high school is full of ambiguity and temptation: an oolong love letter sets off ripples of jealousy, the appearance of a gentle senior sister makes her want to quit, and the rift in the Cold War hides cares that she dare not express openly. When Jiang Yu clumsily confessed to each other under the sky full of fireworks, and the star track on the stage witnessed each other's feelings, this awkward but sincere boy and girl finally broke through the window paper called "habit".
They faced academic pressure together, planned their future direction together, held each other's hands amidst rumors, and agreed to go together at the crossroads of youth. From the ignorant dependence of childhood sweethearts to the firm love that runs in both directions, the tenderness hidden in the poisonous tongue, the thoughts under the brush, and the promises under the starry sky are woven together into a summer love song about growth and redemption.
The summer wind blows through the sycamore trees, and the stars fall on my shoulders. It turns out that the best time is from childhood to old age, when you walk together on the "island", even the wind knows that I like you.
