The Summer Before Cicadas Sing

In the amber of time, there is a poem called youth sealed. It was a small southern town in the late 1990s, a campus where the chirping of cicadas and the whispering of sycamore leaves intertwined, and the air was filled with the throbbing of youth and the glimmer of the future. Chen Mo, a quiet and introverted top student, noticed the girl Su Yuqing in the front row who always lowered her head slightly and read quietly in the sunshine on the first day of school. This is not a story about perfection, but a realistic picture about "missing out" and "growing up". It delicately depicts the most authentic heartbeat, the clumsiest sacrifice, and the most helpless farewell in that era without mobile phones. Let us open this old diary together, look back at the time that passed between sunshine and rain, and pick up the crystal clear and fragile sincerity left in the depths of the years.