Shen Yu's thirty-four years of life were very thin.
Live alone, eat breakfast alone, and wait for dawn alone.
He never thought that he would be held by a cold little hand at the corner of his clothes on a rainy night at the subway entrance.
The child was four years old, neither crying nor fussing, waiting quietly for someone who would never come.
Shen Yu didn't know why he squatted down.
He just suddenly remembered that he had waited like this many years ago.
Later he took the child home.
The child called him uncle, called him daddy, drew him in every family photo, and exchanged the pocket money he had saved for four months for a nineteen-nine-yuan keychain with "Dad" printed on it.
The child said: Tuantuan is afraid that you won't want me anymore.
Shen Yu was silent for a long time.
He remembered that he had never said "I will come" to anyone in his life.
He knelt down and looked into those bright eyes that filled him.
"... Dad won't leave."
[One sentence kernel]
This is a story about "waiting" and "being waited for".
The child who grabs your clothes on a rainy night is your spring that is twelve years late.
