On the summer solstice when I was seventeen years old, the sun was scorching hot and the cicadas were chirping harshly. Jiang Xun is a top student living in the specimen cabinet, and Lin Ye is a transfer student running around with old injuries. They met in the biology classroom, one used an origami crane to count the number of scars, and the other wrapped a bandage around the bruise on his knee.
"Treatment" became the most secret excuse - the smell of peppermint candies, the blood-stained math paper, the empty playground at midnight. When rumors passed by like a typhoon, Jiang Xun finally understood: the original way to the sunshine was to lift the manhole cover above his head with his own hands.
"The lifespan of a blue morpho butterfly is only seven days." Lin Ye's breath swept across the mole in the corner of his eye, "but we will have many summers."
Intention: We will eventually find the hidden seventeen-year-old under the sun.