Chapter 1: Warm Wind in Late Summer, A New Blog BeginsIn
September in Guangzhou, the afterglow of summer had not yet faded. The wind carried the fragmented fragrance of phoenix trees beside the arcade buildings in the old town, mixed with the faint bitter scent from the herbal tea shops on the street, drifting over the red brick walls of No.1 Municipal High School. Song Huaiyue carried a slightly worn schoolbag, stepped on canvas shoes, and walked slowly into the classroom of Class 3, Grade 2. The broken hair on her forehead was gently ruffled by the wind, and a thin layer of sweat oozed from her nose.Having just gone through the arts and sciences division, the classroom was still filled with a sense of unfamiliarity. Familiar classmates had been split into different classes, and the faces around her were all half-known. Huaiyue put down her schoolbag, her fingers brushing the cold wood grain of the desk, and a faint sense of loss welled up in her heart—her best friend, who used to complain about homework and share snacks with her, had gone to the liberal arts class. In the future breaks, she was afraid she would no longer be able to lean on the corridor railing side by side, watching the Indus leaves fall one by one downstairs.The head teacher, a middle-aged female teacher wearing black-rimmed glasses, walked into the classroom holding an attendance list, emphasizing the importance of Grade 2 in a serious tone, saying it was a "critical year connecting the past and the future" and a "watershed determining the direction of the college entrance examination." Huaiyue sat by the window, her gaze falling outside. The phoenix trees outside were in full bloom, their branches and leaves stretching, covering most of the sunlight. The dappled light and shadow fell on her textbook, like a fragmented painting.She didn't pay much attention to the head teacher's exhortations; her mind was full of the argument with her parents last night. "Huaiyue, listen to Mom. Study hard in Grade 2, and in the future, get into the Finance Department of a university in Beijing. After graduation, work in a bank or a state-owned enterprise, and live a stable life. Isn't that good?" Mom's words still echoed in her ears, with an unshakable firmness. But Huaiyue knew in her heart that she didn't like finance. Those cold numbers and complex formulas were never what she wanted. She loved painting, loved sketching warm spaces on a blank drawing paper, loved the fireworks and imagination hidden in design—that was her only love since childhood.But she didn't dare to refute. Her parents were well-known businessmen in Guangzhou. They had worked hard all their lives, hoping that she could have a stable job and not suffer like them. As the only child in the family, her parents had given her the best since she was a child. She was used to being obedient, used to hiding her hobbies in her heart.After a whole day of classes, Huaiyue felt a little tired. The formulas of math problems lingered in her mind, English words were forgotten as soon as she memorized them, and even in her favorite art class, the teacher only briefly talked about the requirements of the joint entrance examination, telling everyone to practice sketching more to prepare for the college entrance examination—there was no interior design she loved, no imagination she desired.When she got home, her parents were still busy at the company, and only Aunt Zhang, the nanny, was cooking at home. Huaiyue returned to her room, threw her schoolbag on the sofa, sat at her desk, and looked at the pile of exercise books on the desk. The grievance in her heart welled up little by little. She wanted to talk to someone about her innermost thoughts, but her best friend was not around, and her parents would not understand her obsession. After thinking about it, she couldn't find anyone to talk to.By chance, she saw a blog shared by her classmate, which recorded daily trivialities, academic troubles, and expectations for the future. There were many likes and comments from strangers below, gentle and healing. Huaiyue's heart moved. Maybe she could also open a blog, write down those unspeakable thoughts and hidden loves, and treat it as an emotional outlet for herself.Her fingers moved quickly, registering a blog account. She thought for a long time about the nickname, and finally typed "Huaiyue's Little World"—simple and straightforward, just like the corner she longed for at this moment, a place that belonged only to herself where she could be unrestrained. For the avatar, she chose a small painting she drew herself: a small house with a balcony, filled with all kinds of flowers on the balcony, and the sun shining on the windowsill, warm and bright.For her first blog post, she wrote casually, without gorgeous rhetoric, only the most real thoughts in her heart: [Guangzhou is still so hot in late summer. The first day of Grade 2, a bit unfamiliar and a bit tired. I listened to "the importance of the college entrance examination" all day, but I still love painting, love design, love the warmth hidden in the drawings. I wonder if there is anyone like me who has a dream that dare not be said out loud? I drank mung bean soup on the street corner today, cold and refreshing, dispelling a little irritability. Hope tomorrow will be better ✨]At the moment she clicked publish, Huaiyue felt a sense of relief, as if she had poured out all the grievance and unwillingness accumulated in her heart. She didn't expect anyone to see it, let alone respond. She just regarded it as a conversation with herself. Turning off the computer, she picked up a paintbrush and sketched a small bedroom on the draft paper, with a desk by the window and the sun just right. As she painted, the irritability in her heart gradually dissipated, leaving only full warmth.What she didn't know was that thousands of miles away in Beijing, in a brightly lit office, He Zhiyun was staring at the computer screen, his fingers having just finished typing a long report, and he rubbed his brows tiredly. He was 22 years old, an illegitimate child of the He family who could not be made public. He had been fostered outside since he was a child, and it was not until half a year ago that he was taken back to the He family and took over the most marginal business of the group. The people of the He family disliked him, squeezed and suppressed him everywhere. He was careful every day, step by step, just to gain a firm foothold in the He family, just to one day get rid of the label of "illegitimate child" and take control of his own life.By chance, he came across a newly registered blog with the nickname "Huaiyue's Little World". The small painting on the avatar was clean and warm, like a beam of light, suddenly breaking into his dark and oppressive world. He clicked on the only blog post, the delicate handwriting, the straightforward thoughts, and the cautious love hidden between the lines softened his heart.He didn't leave a comment, just gently clicked with his finger and liked the blog post. On the black screen, that small like icon was particularly conspicuous. He Zhiyun looked at the words on the screen, and the corners of his mouth raised unconsciously. The fatigue of the past few days seemed to be dispelled by this simple warmth. He remembered this nickname, this small painting, and this girl who hid a small dream in the late summer of Guangzhou.