Jinling Candlelight

In the summer of 2018, it rained in Nanjing for three whole months. Chen Yu, who failed the college entrance examination twice, found an admission letter without a stamp in the scrap pile. There are black characters on a red background and only a sycamore leaf school badge, which is exactly the same as the pattern on the old pen left behind by my father before he disappeared. He walked into the college without a sign deep in the Purple Mountain with the notice in his arms. Meet Su Wan, a red-haired girl riding a red Ducati, who always wears red lipstick, like wildfire burning into the fog; meet Lu Chen, who always wears a black windbreaker, who bears the blood feud for the Chu family's annihilation, and whose sword is named Hanlu; meets the old ghost who always carries a wine pot, covering up ten years of guilt with drunkenness; meets the cynical Fang Yanqiu, who was born to stand in the darkness, but has a heart for the light. They are spirit binders, fire bearers. What we learn here is not mathematics, physics, and chemistry, but ancient inscriptions, the language of artifacts, and the fight against the candle dragon that has been sleeping for thousands of years. No one told Chen Yu that he was not here to go to school, but to attend an appointment that was ten years late. When the fog locks Jinling, when the underground river surges, when the candle dragon opens its eyes. This group of lonely teenagers raised their knives and fire, using their youth as a bet and their lives as chips. It turns out that all encounters are reunions after a long absence, and all loneliness is destined. And those who stand side by side in the rain will eventually become the light that will never go out in each other's lives.