The Evening Breeze Meets the Scorching Sun

When camphor folds its shadow into folds You carry half a cup of Qingti Oolong cold drink Bumped into my wet paint Coffee-stained manuscript paper The pencil still hangs over the unfinished window Later, stars adorned the strings of lights at the music festival You played the guitar and sang "Evening Star" The strings circled my drawing board three times My hands holding the mineral water became wet with sweat. But I didn't dare to raise my head to receive the starlight you handed me The Book of Songs in the library still contains dead leaves You said that the wind from the south can soften the thorny heart I put away my unspoken grievances Fold into the pages of ancient books But you used a page of "Tokyo Dreams" Describe the fireworks of the market for me Later, the wind on the basketball court smelled of sweat. You carry my drawing board and say drop by And he fixes the time I messed up in the code You write my daily life on the staff I count the sunset falling on the tip of my pen Suddenly I understand when the evening breeze meets the scorching sun It's not that they dissipated, but that they both became brighter. Concept: A campus sweet text that is as refreshing and refreshing as green tea and oolong, interspersed with delicate touches of trauma healing in the original family. Under the framework of Jinjiang's classic "redemption", innovative elements such as cultural inheritance and career growth are integrated into the work, and a romantic world full of artistic flavor is built from the perspective of a young illustrator.