Su Xinhe's diary always contains two ginkgo leaves.
One piece came from the window when she was sixteen years old, holding her cell phone and typing "How about trying"; the other piece was stained with the moisture of Nanjing's winter, and was brushed from Shen Zhibin's hair when he lay in bed.
The days are like open stationery, filled with early morning wake-up calls, good night wishes across the screen, and the uncontrollable heartbeat caused by the boy's words "I miss you a little". She wrote slowly, from the summer when the cicadas chirped to the foggy winter mornings, from when the three words "Shen Zhibin" first appeared in the draft, to the faint marks that were later worn away by busyness and distance.
There are no earth-shattering stories in this diary, but it is just a girl slowly remembering: Shen Zhibin and she once walked through a brief period of time together from their youthful beginnings.
Concept: Su Xinhe Shen Zhibin Youthful First Love Sixteen Years Old Diary Record