When the Brush Hits the Pen

In a campus where sycamore leaves fall all over the stone steps, the romance of the color palette collides with the rigor of financial formulas. When Chi Ye, who writes about dreams, meets Zhou Xubai, who is full of refreshing aura, the love that started from the youth's thoughts is wrapped in countless ambiguities and heartbeats, from the chirping of cicadas in the midsummer to the neon lights of the city. He is a painter who hides tenderness in his brushstrokes. Every color on the canvas secretly traces the profile of a certain person; he is a young man who carves rationality into his bones and blood. The financial weekly he is flipping through with his fingertips contains a sketch that has been wrinkled by rubbing. The sun was setting just right in the studio, and his fingertips soaked in paint inadvertently brushed against Shen's jawline, causing a silent throbbing. The lights in the study room were dim, and Shen was sorting out the scattered drawing papers for him. His eyes fell on the abbreviation at the signature, and the corner of his mouth raised an arc that he didn't even notice.