There is always a tin box hanging on the branches of the old locust tree, which contains the entire youth of Lu Yiheng and Jiang Le. He is a boy who scratches his head when he cannot solve conic sections, and his fingertips are always stained with red ink; she is a geography class representative who can recite the coordinates of Orion, and her atlas contains always fresh locust leaves.
They exchanged scratch paper wrapped in mints, and whispered using formulas under the light of evening study hall - when he drew a parabola, he always marked a small "jiang" at the vertex, and when she talked about the morning and evening line, she would deliberately write the word "constant" with extra emphasis. They held an umbrella together in the snow, with the ribs tilted three inches toward her; when sharing candies on the stone table after the exam, he would secretly replace the lime-flavored ones with her favorite mint.
The candy wrappers in the tin box are getting thicker and thicker, ranging from sticky notes with crooked stars drawn on them, to silver bookmarks engraved with their names, to admission notices printed with the same university. It turns out that the most touching thing in youth is not the confession, but that during one of the classes, he ran through the corridor holding a fast-melting mint candy. When the wind lifted the corner of his school uniform, he happened to catch her looking up at the moment - the sun fell on her eyelashes, like a handful of crushed sugar, which was sweeter than peppermint.
This is a story about two mint candies: he crashed into her coordinate system with the recklessness of a young man, and she used her gentle trajectory to let him learn how to keep his heartbeat in a straight line that will never deviate.
Intention: The best love is to go from youthfulness to brightness with you.
