While the cicadas were chirping in midsummer, when Lin Nian pushed the divorce agreement to Gu Chenzhou, he was frowning at the table full of reports. "Have you thought clearly?" The financial upstart turned the Montblanc pen, and the tip of the pen reflected cold light in the sunlight. After seven years of marriage, he can never remember the wedding anniversary, but he knows the Nasdaq index by heart.
On the night when he moved into an old apartment in the old city, Cheng Yan, a childhood sweetheart, opened the door with a first aid box in his arms. As an emergency doctor, he didn't take off his white coat and squatted on the ground to wrap a bandage on Lin Nian's swollen ankle. "When you said you wanted to marry him, I deposited my share of the money into a regular deposit." He pointed to the pot of green radish on the window sill that had not dried up for ten years. "Now the interest is enough to buy a wedding house."
When Gu Chenzhou found the photo album that Lin Nian had not taken away in the empty villa, heavy rain was washing the floor-to-ceiling windows. In the photo, a girl in a white dress is holding a burnt cake, and the stars in her eyes are brighter than 23rd birthday candles. He began to wake up at three o'clock in the morning and found that the pockets of his suit were stuffed with sticky notes at some point: the stomach medicine was in the third drawer of the entrance, don't touch the mousse cake if you are allergic to milk, the wedding anniversary is...
On the day when Cheng Yan and Lin Nian opened a bakery in Wutong Lane, the spring sunshine warmed the signboard "Nostalgic for Old Times". When Gu Chenzhou was kneeling in the flour on the floor holding up the diamond ring, Cheng Yan was handing the lemon tart to the customers who were trying it. "She's allergic to pollen." The doctor wiped off the frosting on his fingertips and quietly replaced the sunflowers with baby's breath. "But starlight will never make her sneeze."
