"Dear Summer" is a true love soaked in my youth and time.
On the freshman day, I dragged my suitcase to the registration desk. When I turned around, I bumped into a solid chest. The suitcase tipped over and I almost fell into the other person's arms - it was Fu Shen from the Computer Science Department. He bent down to help me pick up the scattered painting tools. His white shirt was stained with my paint, but he only said, "Be careful."
Our four years were the library seat he occupied for me, the sketch book I filled with his profile; it was the coat he wrapped tightly around me on the first snowy night, and the throbbing of the first night under the moonlight in the rental house. But before graduation, the interview with Fu Shen's mother was like a bucket of cold water. The photo of Lin Weiwei deliberately leaning on his arms and the drunken photo of Xie Qiang helping me made us believe that we had betrayed each other in the misunderstanding.
Four years later, I returned to China and joined a game company. I encountered an acquisition within just one week. In the conference room, the owner of the acquirer was Fu Shen. He became a stern person in power, and I was a game artist. When our eyes met, hatred and reluctance were torn in my eyes. He hid his intention to acquire me, and I hid the old signature in the drawing. During the workplace confrontation, memories came back to me again and again.
It wasn't until we uncovered the secret behind the mother's interview, exposed Lin Weiwei's tricks, and saw the truth behind the photos that we realized that we were all waiting in place during the days we were apart. He took out his treasured sketchbook, and I said that we always chase similar figures on the streets in foreign countries, and the belated hug finally fell. This is our story: about getting lost, about waiting, about love never being far away.
