Zhong Qinghe is a long tide in Yu Zhinan's youth.
This name has kept Yu Zhi in mind for many years. She can no longer remember the specific day or the exact moment when her heart began to stir. It was like an indescribable emotion - like the light at dusk flowing through the long corridor, like the soft sound made by the wind turning the pages of a book, like a young man standing in the light and casually bending his eyes.
Zhong Qinghe, this name has always been posted at the top of the age list, and was written first on the list of provincial representatives for the physics competition. Everyone can see him, but only Yu Zhinan knows that he is really far away from her.
The few times when the physical education class and the science class were combined were the happiest days in Yu Zhinan's three years of high school. In fact, nothing would happen. She just watched him running on the basketball court from a distance, his movements as neat as slow motion in a movie. She sat in the stands, pretending to read the book in her hand that had not even been turned over, but a heavy rain fell in her heart.
This kind of love grew like weeds in the next few years, but I didn't dare to make the slightest sound.
From then on, Zhong Qinghe became a light in her life, not a burning, dazzling light, but the only thing worth looking forward to in her dark days.
Those unsaid words later turned into the wind in June, passing through her entire youth, but when he passed by, it was as light as if nothing had happened.
Intention: He never knew that the wind-blown wrinkles on his school uniform were the only thing I wanted to hold onto throughout my youth.