Lin Wan's life is like a knotted ball of yarn - a supermarket tally clerk, a late-night customer service person, a divorced "rough mother" with two children. The burden of life weighed her down so much that she couldn't breathe, and her tears of collapse when no one was around were known only to the King's Canyon late at night. Here, she has a voice as sweet as honey, capable of teasing and coaxing [the evening breeze is sweet and warm], and the only painkiller is the Yewang brother who has only one ID [S], is a god in operation but cherishes words like gold.
In an accident, she blurted out "The baby is great!" And knocked off his earphones.
Once she had a breakdown, and while she was forcing a smile to play games, he turned on the mic in a low voice: "Follow me and push down the tower."
In a moment of despair, his daughter's life was hanging by a thread. He only sent six words: "Send me the address, don't ask." A top-notch ambulance parachuted into the dilapidated rental house.
