Lin Xiaoman, a 26-year-old Hu Piao copywriter, lives in a partition room in an old-fashioned community with "half of his salary paid for rent, and the rest is enough to eat instant noodles." The landlord's notice of a sudden rent increase was like a huge boulder, crushing her already tight life - she was criticized as "immature" in the workplace, her bank card balance was in double digits, and even the pothos she picked was about to wither in the dark cubicle.
But in this old building that hides secrets, there are always glimmers of light: Lao Yang, the retired electrician next door, will throw a bag of fertilizer and remind her that "green grass must turn its direction to survive"; the camera of Zhou Mingxuan, a freelance photographer downstairs, hides the window where she works overtime until the early morning; Zhao Yan, a sharp-tongued colleague, calls her "stupid", but always stands up when she is bullied.
As we get along more and more, the old news about Lao Yang's late-night radio, the empty "son" number on his landlord Sister Zhang's mobile phone, and the "gas poisoning" three years ago surfaced like puzzle pieces. It turns out that everyone in this building has scars: Lao Yang is trapped in the unspoken truth, Sister Zhang is struggling with the pain of losing her son, and Zhou Mingxuan gave up his dream to protect the weak.
When the developer's old evil was revealed, and when the partition walls could not block the warmth of each other, Lin Xiaoman finally understood: the so-called "spring" is never the stability that awaits, but the light that is pieced together with those who are also holding on in a shattered life. The green radish she raised covered the entire wall, and her life finally
