Shine, Song Xiaogou

She reached out to take his hand. He placed the damp popsicle stick from his mouth in her palm.

She angrily called him a little brat. The corner of his mouth twitched. "You pronounced it wrong."

That was their sophomore year of high school. She had just been accepted by Cube and was flying to Seoul for the summer. He said nothing. He simply finished the college entrance exams, then turned around and enlisted in the army.

Her name was Song Yuqi. He called her "Little Song Pup," and she called him "Little Lin." In their first year of middle school, he sat behind her. She pinched his cheeks, wiped her sweat on his sleeves, and drew little dogs in his textbooks.

Five years. No hand-holding, no confession. Everyone knew that the person sitting behind Song Yuqi was Lin Yuzhou.

Later, she went to Seoul and practiced dancing for more than ten hours a day, with bruised knees and evaluations at the end of every month. He stayed in Beijing, took the college entrance exams, enlisted, and went through boot camp. 953 kilometers between them, for two and a half years. One message every week, and an occasional phone call. She only told him the good news, never the bad. He did the same.

She debuted, appeared on Keep Running, hit a low point, made a comeback, and rose to the top as a solo artist. He completed his service and flew to Seoul, staying where she couldn't see him and quietly paving her way. Everyone said she was lucky. What she didn't know was that behind every stroke of good luck, there was him.