The stirrings of love are nothing more than plum soup in white porcelain, served in the height of summer, with crushed ice clinking in the glass. That was Jiang Heyue's most bittersweet girlish secret about Gu Yang.
No matter how kind she was to him, it couldn't overcome his repeated attempts to avoid her. A secret crush was one person's solitary chaos, she thought, yet again and again, she was left disappointed.
Meeting her at university was the last thing Zhou Wu expected. Seeing her pine for someone else, he clenched his back teeth. Just how was he inferior to that guy? Jiang Heyue must have gone blind as she grew up!
