In the smell of disinfectant in the hospital corridor, Lin Yan met Shen Yuchuan. He was her father's attending physician, and his brown pupils behind his lenses were like frozen lakes. But when she was most embarrassed, he would always hand her ginger-flavored hot porridge, a quietly reduced bill, and translation notes filled with comments. She thought it was the light in a desperate situation, but at the moment her father's operation failed, she directed all her resentment towards him - the secret she had hidden for five years, the star she could not reach even with her tiptoes.
After her father's funeral, she disappeared into the rain in the south, while he was trapped in the snow in the north waiting. The wedding invitation three years later was like a dull knife, opening an unhealed wound; the news of aid to Xinjiang was wrapped in wind and sand, bringing the belated truth. When he lost his memory, he was stunned by Lily of the Valley, and when she reopened a bookstore in the Gobi Desert, the fragments torn apart by fate were repeatedly pulled on the edge of forgetting and remembering.
It turns out that some love is destined to burn in the cold winter, scab in the misunderstanding, and turn into an unopened lily of the valley during the waiting across thousands of miles - it does not say "I love you", but only inscribes on each petal: I have waited for you with my entire barren youth.
