Seventeen-year-old Lin Wanzhou picked up an unsigned letter under an old locust tree. The ink was smeared with the coolness of snow: "The last big question in mathematics, the steps are on the second page." The signature was "Gu Ze." This boy who always stuffed red bean smoothies on her desk during recess broke into her dusty high school life - he was the one who gave her relevant clues when she was scratching her head when she couldn't solve the problem, the white shirt that blocked the basketball for her, and the guardian who hid all the tenderness in the steps of solving the problem.
But fate came to an abrupt end in midsummer. An accident took Gu Ze away, leaving Lin Wanzhou with only a tactical pen with "Zhou" engraved on it, and an iron box buried under an old locust tree: letters that had not been sent for five years, notes on wrong question papers, and the voice he secretly recorded: "Xiao Zhou, live a good life for me."
Ten years later, Lin Wanzhou returned to his hometown town and opened a second-hand bookstore. On New Year's Eve, fine snow was falling outside the window. She was wiping the orange lamp on her desk when she suddenly heard a familiar voice: "Classmate, I don't know how to solve this question..." The boy in a blue and white school uniform held up the exercise book, his eyebrows and memories overlapped. It turns out that Gu Ze's consciousness was trapped in the tactical pen and returned in another way - he could touch her warmth, but couldn't hug her; he could watch the snow fall with her, but couldn't wait for spring.
Intention: youth
