My Dormitory Aunt Is a Goddess

Updated on time at 20:00 every day, no lag. In the winter of my freshman year, I (Lin Zhou) forgot to bring my dormitory key. When I was standing downstairs in dormitory No. 3, Rubbing my hands, the lights at the dormitory station were extremely warm. Su Wan, wearing a navy blue coat, walked out of it, holding a bunch of old keys in her hand, and her fingertips were still stained with unwashed paint - I later learned that this girl, who always corrected the dormitory diary late at night, had a stack of sketches full of milk tea shops and beauty salon benches hidden in her drawer, hiding an artistic dream that she dared not speak out. I am a photographer who is afraid of pointing my camera at people, but I can't help but take pictures of her: I took pictures of her profile secretly drawing by the window of the dormitory station, I took pictures of her hands when she was giving hot milk tea to the students who returned home late, I took pictures of her staring at the admission brochure of the Academy of Fine Arts in a daze. There was no grand confession, only the milk tea that was always warm in the studio, the bench under the old locust tree where she often went after evening self-study, and the laughter of the children who gathered around her while learning to draw daisies in the charity class. She walked from the dormitory station to the examination room of the Academy of Fine Arts, and I changed from a boy hiding behind the camera to her exclusive photographer; we were so nervous that we clasped our hands at the preview of the graduation exhibition, compiled the drafts together by the Seine River in Paris, and were together backstage at the European tour. Looking at the light in each other's eyes, we said, "So we really did it." This is not a counterattack story, it is a story about two people who are so ordinary that they can't be found in a crowd, and together they turned "impossible" into "fortunately they didn't give up": it's the milk tea stains on her drawings, the warm light in my photos, and every ordinary night in the past ten years, there is someone to help you piece together your small dreams into a big day.