Fang Qian was divorced once. The wounds left by her ex-husband's cheating had not yet healed, so she met Kong Yanfang, a man who had a prickly smile, spoke slowly but was serious in his work. She mustered up the courage to remarry, but marriage is not the end of the fairy tale, but the starting point of another period of spiritual practice.
After the marriage, Fang Qian found herself like a frightened cat, pricking up her ears at any time: Why didn't he answer the phone? Who is sitting in the passenger seat? Does his kindness to me have a shelf life? At the same time, Kong Yanfang's studio encountered competitors poaching employees at low prices and rent increases, and almost closed down; Fang Qian was competing for a planning manager at work, but she was pregnant at the same time, and was denied promotion and childbirth at the same time. Everyone said you have to choose one. Fang Qian said, I don't choose, I want both.
From being hospitalized in a car accident to marriage counseling, from studio crisis to business trips during pregnancy, from checking cell phones to learning to say I love you, Fang Qian and Kong Yanfang learned to trust little by little. Neighbor Aunt Wang used decades of experience in marriage to tell her that she has never regretted more than I love you. Student Zhao Lin used plank support for 30 seconds to tell her that she is still practicing. Colleague Chen Mingyue used a rights protection experience to tell her that rights are obtained by oneself and not given by others.
This is not a perfect love story, it is a period of two imperfect people deciding to continue walking in imperfection. A story about injury, about choice, about why women can't have both...
