In the classroom in September, Lin Zhiyu met Jiang Xuanchen, and also met the heartbeat that lasted throughout his youth.
He was the class monitor who would gently push the scrap paper to her hand when he leaned over to give a lecture. He was the boy who held her steady during sports events. He was also the ignorant boy who repeatedly made corrections on the fly page of his light blue notebook.
Deskmates, masters and apprentices, the residual warmth of a piece of eraser, the rustle of the pen tip across the paper, they had the most gentle companionship in their youth, but they always lacked the most important courage.
The distant figures looking at each other at the gate of the junior high school, the silence in the library that hesitated to speak, and the hasty "goodbye" at the end of the college entrance examination made the "I like you" hidden in my heart forever stop on my lips.
Lack of courage and opportunity, that unspoken love was finally buried in the summer when I was eighteen.
Until they met again in the mall many years later, he was already with his beloved, and she was holding the book she had just bought in her hand.
The moment they looked at each other and smiled, Lin Zhiyu finally understood: some heartbeats had an ending that was "just shy of 100 million points" from the beginning. The complete meaning of youth is never to be perfect, but to learn to say goodbye to this tender miss, and to understand all the regretful footnotes in self-reconciliation.
Concept: Youth is inherently wrapped up with normal regrets - those unspoken likes, the imperfections that are just a million inches away, the approaches and withdrawals that stop in the "if", will eventually teach us to reconcile with the miss in time. It never needs to fill the gap with new love. The real completeness is to understand the diverse appearance of youth in relief: regret is a footnote, growth is the main line, and reconciliation with oneself is the ultimate answer to this youth narrative.