The Evening Breeze Weaves Summer, and Then I Met You

Jiangcheng University sits in a riverside city in the south, where all four seasons are distinct. Plane trees line the campus paths, and the clock tower of the old library chimes on schedule each day. The photography and Chinese departments lie at opposite ends of campus, yet are quietly connected by the third-floor study area beside the windows. This is Jiang Xu's regular spot. Sunlight falls through the glass onto his black-and-white keyboard, and as he edits photos, he often glances up without thinking to look at Su Nian, the girl in front of him who writes stories.

The adult students hurry between coursework and their dreams. A banner announcing the photography club's graduation exhibition hangs in front of the arts building, while the Chinese department's short story contest is quietly getting underway. The city subway now connects the university district, and student-run stalls often appear at the weekend market. Cafes display signs advertising student discounts. Adult feelings quietly take root through library cards, the names given to saved images, and unsigned greeting cards. Nothing crosses a line; there is only a restrained, enduring closeness. Every relationship is built on mutual consent and emotional maturity, suffused with a sweet yet thoughtful tension.