The heartbeat of my youth is hidden within easy reach of the desk.
Shen Wangan and Ye Ming were deskmates who stayed together day and night. The early autumn wind blew through the classroom windows, quietly blowing away a hazy feeling. An accidental acquaintance, going to the library together on weekends to answer questions, an upcoming autumn sports meeting, and the stack of old music scores that carry past regrets gradually bring the two people closer together.
Shen Wangan was trapped in the powerlessness caused by his body, watching Ye Ming shine on the field, easily breaking the school's high jump record, possessing fresh energy that was beyond her reach. There was a faint afterglow beside the desk, a fleeting touch of fingertips, and a quiet look under the sycamore tree. There were no passionate and straightforward confessions, only restrained and turbulent ambiguity quietly fermenting in the air.
Ye Ming accepted the stack of violin scores filled with thoughts and agreed to try to rewrite the sad melody into a piano tune. On one side is the joy that young people quietly grow, and on the other side are the secrets and scars buried in their hearts.
The early part of the story is gentle and affectionate, and the middle part ushered in a hot and sweet time together, but under the sweetness, there was already a foreshadowing of tragedy. The passionate heartbeat could not withstand the barriers of reality. The glances at each other at the desk and the side by side in the evening breeze were eventually reduced to shining fragments in memories.
About the love of youth, about asking for something but not getting it, and about those unexpressed feelings, they will always stay in that summer.
Intention: Those young hearts that restrain their turbulent but failed to bear fruit teach us that some sparkling encounters are already the ending in themselves.