Neon Ashes Have No Return Date

In the top-floor office of the Shanghai World Financial Center, Lin Yanzhou is a business upstart in the eyes of outsiders - the net profit on the report is rising month by month, and the famous watch on his wrist makes his suit more and more straight, but only he knows that a piece of his heart has been hollowed out. In that pouring rain three years ago, the diagnosis of "late-stage leukemia" in the emergency room crushed all his and Su Wan's future. At that time, he was still struggling in the quagmire of starting a business. She grabbed the salary she had saved and said, "Let's start from scratch." She made instant coffee in a Crooked Bear mug and waited for him until late at night. She smiled and said, "It doesn't matter if you don't see the aurora. It's good to have you." But he was so busy chasing the phantom of "giving her a better life" that he couldn't even hold her properly when she finally said, "I'm so sorry I didn't stay with you until the end." Now he has everything he once longed for: a mansion in Jing'an District, a new sign for the cafe across the river, his mother keeps arranging blind dates, and his secretary carefully avoids the moments when he stares at the moon in a daze. He customized a star necklace with her hair embedded in it, and still kept her white dress with the fragrance of gardenia in his wardrobe, but he could no longer find the girl who would hold a transparent umbrella on a rainy day and wave to him with a smile. No matter how bright the neon is, it cannot illuminate the way back without her; no matter how big the world is, it cannot fill the vacancy left without her. Lin Yanzhou walked forward under the neon lights of Vanity Fair, carrying in his arms forever the date with the Aurora in Iceland that he didn't have time to attend, and the words "I miss you so much" hidden deep in his heart that he never had the chance to say.