The Summer Breeze Blows Through the White Shirt

The September wind still carries the residual warmth of midsummer, blowing through the teaching building wrapped with ivy, rolling up the sycamore leaves on the ground, and also lifting up the most youthful joy hidden in the girl's heart. At the age of seventeen or eighteen, the distance between the front and back rows of the classroom, the secret glances at each other between classes, and the fingertips that accidentally touched the homework books can all create ripples in my heart. And in the summer when Lin Zhixia met Jiang Yu, even the sunshine became gentle.