Lin Wanxing folded the terminal brain cancer diagnosis certificate into a paper airplane and shot it towards the ginkgo tree outside the window of the inpatient department.
The first item on the bucket list is arrogant and tragic: "Kidnapping a man in a moon-white gown and falling in love with a 30-day countdown."
That night in the abandoned concert hall, Shen Tingbai, a musician from the Republic of China condensed in moonlight, grabbed her wrist.
A kiss with cold dew burned into her lips, and amidst the sudden roar of the electrocardiogram - her depleted lifeline was extended by 24 hours.
"I'm sorry, girl." His sleeves were full of stars, "Every day I live, you need to take away a piece of my memory."
Lin Wanxing licked the corners of her bitten lips and burst into tears with laughter: "What a bargain... Kiss me thirty times and I will accompany you until the moonlight burns out!"
So the taboo compass turns:
→ He dipped the Milky Way to teach her how to identify the 1923 star map, and the "star" notch on the bottom of the bowl of sugar water cut her fingertips;
→ On the carousel that stopped at midnight, he kissed the frost on her eyelashes: "Look, I stole the 17th sunrise for you";
→ Until the yellowed newspaper punctured the dream: Shen Tingbai, a talented musician who died in 1943, clutched an unsent ginkgo bookmark until her death. On the back was her handwriting - "Tingbai, wait for the wind to kiss you for me."
