Xia Mengzhiqiuyi

In the midsummer of seventeen years old, the cicadas chirped loudly and the parasol trees grew wildly. Song Qino and I were originally two parallel lines that would never intersect, but we were caught up in the same short dream by a sudden rainstorm. He is the silent boy hiding in the corner, and I am the dazzling girl living in the sun. I thought this midsummer encounter would last forever, but little did I know that the young man's inferiority complex hidden under his white shirt had already written the ending for this relationship. The wind comes and the dream wakes up. Midsummer is the starting point and the end of dreams—— Later I saw countless summers, none of which were as good as the one I had when I was seventeen.