Chen Haopeng is unemployed. At the age of thirty, there was no one to hire a carpenter, so he had to buy an inconspicuous little shop at the end of Huaian Lane, selling handmade noodles. I knead noodles at three o'clock in the morning and make soup at five o'clock every day. There are calluses on my hands and the fragrance of noodles on my body. He has a secret in his heart: he can predict the weather in the next two hours. This ability allowed him to prepare a few more umbrellas and avoid getting caught in the rain, but he never dared to use it to change anything - because every intervention would trigger a butterfly effect and backfire on those around him. An old man who often comes to the shop shovels in a can of hot sauce when returning his umbrella. The blacksmith next door praises him for repairing a stool that is stronger than a new one. But these good intentions could not fill the holes in his life: his mother mistakenly thought he had lost contact and called the police, the landlord called three times a day to press for rent, and his ex-girlfriend brought her new boyfriend to eat noodles and asked him with a smile, "How is the business?" He could only lower his head and knead the dough, kneading his tears into the dough. That day he predicted a heavy rain, enough to fill the entire street with half a meter of water. He wanted to close the door early, but a room full of customers were still waiting for their meal. He gritted his teeth and decided to take a gamble - little did he know that the rain would completely expose the secret to everyone.
