Return to the Field and See the Clouds Opening

In the summer when the chirping of cicadas tore apart urban dreams, Lin Jinhe returned to his hometown. The fragrance of dried osmanthus is hidden in grandma's wrinkles, and the old-fashioned shaking head fan stirs the dust of childhood memories. She met Shiyu's photo studio at the end of the bluestone road - countless slices of dusk were displayed in the window. The camera strap wraps around my wrist like a gentle shackle. He taught her to see the glass paintings drawn by rain marks through the viewfinder, to see the stars exploding like silver salt particles on the grain drying field, and to see the fire in her pupils that had never been extinguished. She finally understood: those over-exposed past events and the pain of being out of focus were all necessary chemical reactions to reach the present moment. And when the shutter paused for her for the umpteenth time, they finally found the clearest focus in each other's eyes.