She records them through her lens, only to lose herself in the frame.
Lin Wan never expected her first assignment as an assistant director to be filming a farming reality show no one believed in: ten unknown boys, 142 mu of land, and 190 days.
She brought her beloved film camera, ready to quietly document a laborious project destined to be forgotten.
But she never expected that the boy who talked the most, laughed the loudest, and ran around with a camera every day would keep wandering into her frame.
Li Hao, the sociable one among the Ten Hardworking Days crew, is in charge of outreach and publicity. He loves taking pictures, capturing moments, and making faces at the camera. He says, “You can’t go wrong recording it first. It might come in handy someday.”
He has no idea that someone behind the camera is quietly capturing every side of him:
The one who gave her his raincoat in the rain, the one who dozed off while keeping watch over a lamb in the early hours, the one who sweated nervously during a livestream but relaxed the instant he saw her hold up a whiteboard, the one who looked in a certain direction while singing “Slowly Falling for You” at the wheat-field music festival.
One hundred and ninety days, from bitter winter to midsummer, from barren land to bountiful harvest.
The rolls of film pile up, and feelings slowly take root.
Then, one night as waves of wheat swayed in the breeze, a hand cautiously brushed her fingers.
“May I?”
A few words from the author: Same as always: no attention to detail, no logic, and I don’t care. The characters may be out of character. This is a no-frills product, so don’t argue with me. It’s all made up, so please don’t read anything into it!
