The September wind blew away the drawing paper of Shen Tinglan from the Department of Architecture.
Wen Shiyu reached out to catch it and saw an architectural sketch with precise lines and gentle light and shadow. He thought it was an ordinary encounter, but he didn't know that the arched window that was "0.3 Centimeters higher" on the drawing paper was a footnote that Shen Tinglan took the world extremely seriously - and it was also the way he treated his feelings.
One is cold and taciturn, extremely focused; the other is sunny and delicate, with strong empathy. From the first meeting on Wutong Avenue, to sharing a table in the library; from the chance encounter in the cafeteria, to the starry sky on the rooftop - the two 18-year-old boys, as they got closer day after day, slowly discovered: It turns out that heartbeats don't need to be loud and vigorous. When the wind blows, everything is just right.
The error of 0.3 Centimeters is exactly the distance from stranger to heartbeat.
This is a story about "slowing down". There is no blood, no vicious supporting characters, just two ordinary people, using the most sincere way, from campus to wedding dress, from youth to the rest of their lives.
The wind blows, you are here, my heart is just right.
Concept: In this world, most people cannot see an error of 0.3 Centimeters.
But Shen Tinglan could see it. He was obsessed with the deviation in the position of the arched window on the drawing, and was extremely serious about the direction of every line. This almost paranoid focus is not only his attitude towards architecture - it is also his way towards emotions.
Wen Shiyu happened to be the one who wanted to see him. He couldn't understand the error of 0.3 Centimeters, but he could see the subtle movement in the corner of Shen Tinglan's mouth when he said, "Most people can't see it." He could see the clumsiness and tenderness hidden under that cold face.
This is a story about "seeing".
In the era of fast love, too many people pursue vigorous drama, but ignore the most precious part of a relationship - those subtle "0.3 Centimeters" that only each other can detect. True love does not lie in how many earth-shattering things he has done for you, but in the fact that only you know that he will care when he makes a mistake of 0.3 Centimeters.
The two people in the story spent four years in college doing something very slow: slowly getting closer, slowly falling in love, and slowly confirming each other. There are no bloody misunderstandings, no vicious characters getting in the way, just two ordinary people, loving each other in the simplest way in the library, canteen, and under the plane tree.
0.3 Centimeters is the distance from stranger to heartbeat.
It is also the last step from heartbreak to the rest of life.