In my impression, Ning Xiaoliang would raise her head every day and smile at me against the warm morning light, like a quiet and pure elf. She is my white moonlight.
And Luo Xiangxiang, who looked disgusted but stuffed my palms with candies, always made me almost burst into tears after turning around. She was so impatient that she passed by in a flash.
The story begins at the age of 17, stop looking far away and catch the shooting star.