The midsummer wind carried the fragrance of Sophora japonica and spread into Qingcheng Middle School. Ruan Zhiwu, holding a canvas bag full of music scores, got lost in the green avenue deep in the campus on the way to transfer reports. At the corner, she bumped into a young man standing quietly leaning against an old locust tree - Kuai Feiyong, gently twisting a locust leaf with his fingertips. The cuffs of his school uniform were stained with fine rain stains. There was alienation between Qing Jun's brows and eyes. The unfamiliar name and cold temperament were like an ink painting with white space, which made her subconsciously hold her hand.
One is a transfer student who prefers to paint with vegetation and has a gentle and introverted personality. The other is a top student with a superior IQ but a taciturn personality, and even his name has a niche poetic touch. A coincidence of fate made them sit at the same table, and the initial silence gradually melted away with the rustle of the pen tip across the paper: it was the half-piece of eraser with the sophora flower pattern that he pushed over when she forgot to bring the eraser; it was him who could not solve the competition. When writing the question, she secretly drew a little cheering graffiti on the corner of the draft paper; it was in the drizzle that fell suddenly after the evening self-study. The two of them held an umbrella together and walked through the stagnant water on the locust path.
Kuai Feiyun's world once only had formulas, books and the tranquility of being alone, but Ruan Zhiwu's appearance was like a gentle drizzle, soaking into his alienation. He would stuff anti-mosquito stickers into her painting folder in advance, patiently explain in the simplest language when she was stuck on knowledge points she didn't understand, and write notes on her drawings using uncommon words that only two people could understand. And Ruan Zhiwu also understood the tenderness behind his silence in getting along day after day, and composed his profile, his seriousness, and his care hidden in the details one by one into the score of midsummer.
The summer branches are brushing lightly, the chirping of cicadas gradually subsides, and the prologue of youth slowly unfolds in the fragrance of locust trees and the heartbeat. They lose their youthfulness in each other's company, and learn to be brave through mutual understanding. It turns out that the most beautiful encounter is when you happen to appear, making those rare tenderness and niche poetry become the most precious annotations of youth.
Concept: Gentleness is silent resonance