Chen Nuan's breakfast stall always appeared in the alleyway at five o'clock in the morning. The steamed meat buns in the steamer were steaming, and the aroma of soy milk was wrapped in the morning light. This was her confidence to work hard in this city. After the divorce, she took her mother for medical treatment. Although life was difficult, she always smiled and added an extra spoonful of pickles to her customers.
Until Zhou Yu came on time every day to buy two meat buns and a cup of sugar-free soy milk. He was an engineer from the design institute next door. He was always helping her move the steamer in front of the stall. He would come in advance to set up an awning on rainy days. He would also quietly take her mother's checklist to an expert after she closed the stall.
There was no grand confession, only the hot soy milk delivered in the morning, the figure helping to close the stall in the evening, and his soft words, "From now on, I will help you carry it together."
The story of Chen Nuan and Zhou Yu is the most real warmth in the urban fireworks - it turns out that the most touching companionship is hidden in the breakfast day after day, hidden in the tenderness that is willing to stop for you.
