A distant, unloved pediatrician × a gentle, resilient illustrator. Two souls trapped by their families of origin become each other’s one and only salvation.
Fu Xuyi is known at the hospital for his composure. When faced with crying children, he gently comforts them and sticks cute stickers on their stethoscopes. But when alone, he can barely breathe beneath the shadows of his mother's suicide and his father's remarriage. An outsider in his own family, he has long forgotten what it feels like to be loved.
A medical chart knocked to the floor at the hospital entrance, a lollipop debated over in a convenience store, and the warm glow captured in a sketchbook at a bus stop on a stormy night: three chance encounters draw him into Gu Anyin's world of art. She asks him for advice as she works on a children's picture book, and his profile finds its way into her illustrations. He understands the unspoken pain in her drawings of her family, and feels for her as she suffers under her mother's lovesick choices. A neighborly older brother helps her clear the fog surrounding her family, while his group of friends nudges him out of his shell. They find understanding in each other's wounds, moving from tentative tests to a steadfast embrace. At last, they realize that good love isn't about saving each other. It's enough to be each other's tools: you can be my paintbrush, and I'll be your stethoscope, as we stand side by side in the sunlight.
