Song Qian just wanted to play football quietly, watch football quietly, and spend three years of high school quietly.
Until that Monday, Su Man, a girl in the back row, patted him on the back and said, "Let me copy your chemistry homework."
What came back was not an exercise book, but a lemon candy.
To make matters worse, he bumped into his elementary school classmate Hu Qingting in a cafe outside the school. The childhood sweethearts who once stood on tiptoe to ring the doorbell together are now so embarrassed that their voices tremble even when they say hello. But the look in his eyes that was dissolved in the fragrance of camphor tree in math class made it impossible for him to pretend not to care anymore.
There was also junior high school classmate Xia Xingye, that cheerful girl standing by the playground, watching him "passionately celebrate" with Wen Xu after he scored, and smiled meaningfully: "I won't tell anyone."
When everyone sat at the same dining table at the weekend family dinner, Song Qian finally realized——
His quiet routine was completely lost.
Intention: Quietness is not the armor of loneliness, but the door waiting for a gentle knock.