By chance, Lin Xuan returned to high school.
She decided to reverse history, make up for her past regrets, and write a happy ending herself.
That year the wind blew through the long street, through summer, and through the young man's flying hair.
Qin, I'm sorry.
Lin Xuan put down the pen in his hand and looked out the window.
I will never get out of that summer.
"Lin Yan, I listened to the wind eight hundred times before I realized that you are in this world."
Intention: None