Xia Xingtang suffered two defeats in his youth.
Once on the court, the young sincerity was crushed by dirty tactics. From then on, he hid his talent and avoided the noise.
Once in midsummer, a heartbeat quietly took root. He was clumsy, introverted, and not good at words, waiting for a hasty graduation.
In his sophomore year of high school, Xia Xingtang transferred to Xinqiao Middle School.
No one knew that this quiet and taciturn transfer student was once a basketball genius who swept the court.
In a game during my freshman year of high school, my opponent committed a flagrant foul, resulting in serious injuries, a tragic defeat, and public opinion.
Since then, he has restrained all his sharp edges, avoiding competitions and hiding his skills, and just wants to finish the remaining two years of his studies in peace.
But he couldn't hide the gaze that fell on Zhou Chunchun.
During the two years of high school, they were acquaintances who had crossed paths, had conversations, and occasionally dropped by.
We rub shoulders during the day, hand things over between classes, share the same road in the evening breeze, and our sentences are ordinary.
There is no excitement, only unspeakable attention day after day.
By the time he finally figured out his feelings, the midsummer graduation bell rang and the crowd dispersed, it was already too late.
For the next four years, we faced each other in the same city. The mountains and rivers were close, but the people were far apart.
Each grows and settles separately, and the feelings quietly ferment in silence.
When we met again, he was wearing a professional jersey and scars, standing firm in the league.
She was on the sidelines, dressed in white, always paying attention to his status.
She didn't want to see him give up his love because of injury.
The evening breeze I missed when I was young is gone after so many years.
Finally it fell back to the basket, back between him and her.
