When Lin Wei locks her premarital medical exam report in a drawer, she deliberately slips the foil from a contraceptive pill between the clauses recommending they have children.
In Gu Yi’s drawer, something even more secretive is hidden: a notebook filled with “family planning,” its neat handwriting laying out a project that must be brought to fruition.
The “marriage of convenience” they agreed on when they were introduced, her mother’s weekly “nourishing soup,” and her future mother-in-law’s pleading phone calls are all pressuring her to open that drawer and provide an answer: “I agree to have children.”
But what’s locked in that drawer is far more than a sheet of paper.
It’s the last stubborn trace of a woman who doesn’t want to be defined as a “wife” or a “mother.”
