In the studio of Xinghua Middle School, there is always the smell of turpentine mixed with paint. Transfer student Lin Suhe met Lu Qiyuan here - the boy who always stood in the light, with excellent grades, dazzling on the basketball court, and even the lines drawn by the brush were full of talent that could not be matched by others.
Lin Suhe's drawing board is her secret base. She painted the hem of his clothes that was blown up by the wind when he was shooting, the frown on his eyebrows when he couldn't solve a problem, the hexagonal red mark on his wrist caused by the easel, and the beam of light in the studio that only wanted to fall on his easel. The love hidden in the charcoal dust and oil paint is like wet paint, quietly spreading in every brushstroke.
She thought that the paintbrush could preserve luck, and that the occasional glance, the eraser handed to her, and the words "The painting is very good" were proof of closeness. But love in youth is often like an unfinished painting. There are always sudden rains that wet the paint, and there are always missed lights that blur the lines.
When Lu Qiyuan's name appeared on the bulletin board with another girl, when her most cherished drawing was crushed in the corner, and when the only beam of light was finally completely extinguished, Lin Suhe realized: some luck did not belong to her from the beginning.
She spent the entire high school drawing a person, but in the end she could only draw an unnamed cat and an unspoken "I like you" in the blank space of her graduation book.
This youth about luck is ultimately a pity that the painting is not finished.
Purpose: The redemption of youth