On the night of the typhoon, I urged Cheng Yuan to take shelter from the rain. There was a knock on the door, and I ran to open the door when my phone suddenly lit up. Cheng Yuan sent a voice message, with the whistling wind in the background: "The water at the entrance of the community is too deep, and my car stalled... What should I do?" But the knock on the door was still ringing unhurriedly. Once, and again. Just outside the door. .
