(Third person perspective)
Under the camphor tree of Tianqing Middle School, Cen Yuxiang's white sneakers and Xiao Yuan's sweat fell into the midsummer of seventeen at the same time. In front of the red list for liberal arts and sciences, he deliberately ticked "materialization politics" instead of "materialization place", but when she was filling in her application, she saw the smell of sea salt on the back of his school uniform. When the admission notice for the national defense students was torn apart by the moonlight, he tore into pieces her future letterhead with "we" written all over it. Seven years later, on the coastline, his white sneakers stepped on the same beach, and the smell of sea salt in her hair mixed with the sea breeze - some love is like a tide, destined to return the entire ocean at low tide, but they are always trapped in the jet lag and cannot read the blue ocean in each other's palm prints.
(Xiao Yuan's perspective)
With a startling glance on the basketball court, I remembered the girl's panicked eyes in the summer of my seventeenth year. I deliberately filled out the application form incorrectly during the division of subjects, but late at night when I was filling in the application for national defense student, I tore up the letter she had filled with my future. Seven years later, watching the moonlight on the deck of the ship, I stepped on the same beach with my white sneakers. Only when we met again did I understand the smell of sea salt in her hair that had not faded - some love is like a tide, destined to return to the entire ocean when the tide ebbs.
(Cen Yuxiang's perspective)
The white sneakers are stained with the sweat of a boy who fell into the midsummer of seventeen years old, and the ink mark of "materialization place" on the subject chart is mixed with the smell of sea salt on his back. On the night when the admission notice for national defense students was shredded in the moonlight, I clutched the shells and listened to the waves whimpering among the scraps of letter paper. Over the past seven years, the sea salt in the corner of the closet has spread over the tears in my diary with the monsoon wind. When we reunited, the sea breeze swept away the wedding ring - his white sneakers stepped on the same beach. I finally understood the moonlight on the ship deck: Some love is like the tide. When the tide rises, it embraces the entire ocean. After the tide recedes, I realize that I am trapped in the jet lag. One is on the dusk wave and the other is on the beach at dawn.
Purpose: Cherish the people in front of you