The first time Lin Zhilan met Jiang Yuanchuan was on a rainy afternoon.
She was holding an umbrella, walking past the old library steps, when a gust of wind blew away the poem she had just written.
The thin paper fluttered like a wounded bird.
A slender hand reached out and caught it.
He stood beneath the rain, his white shirt dampened by water, yet his smile was gentle.
"Your words are beautiful."
She looked at him, stunned. That moment, it was as if lightning tore through her heart.
From then on, Jiang Yuanchuan's name was engraved in her life.