Twenty-six-year-old Su Suhuo has become a standard answer - dark suit, bean paste lipstick, saying "I will consider" to the blind date. She built high walls with rules and locked her true self inside. Until I met Jiang Shiyan, the free and uninhibited photographer pointed to the painting that was torn to pieces by her mother when she was fifteen and said: "Things that have been torn to pieces and are still alive are burning."
During her sophomore year, she was assaulted in the school hallway. The darkness, the tiles, the smell of alcohol, the face I couldn't see clearly. She called the police, but nothing happened. From then on, she locked up her body, used indifference as armor, and rules as amulets.
Jiang Shiyan is different. He never pressed, just waited. "Your body knows more than your brain." He took her back to the corridor and held her trembling hand. She couldn't say anything, so he just held her in his arms: "When you want to say something, I'll listen."
The red dress had been hanging in the closet for three years and she didn't dare to wear it. Until that day when she stood in front of him wearing it. He was stunned, then kissed her gently.
This is the story of ice and fire. Ice is the shell she built with rules, and fire is the desire and trauma she dare not touch. His love wasn't about saving, it was about igniting - making her believe that even after being torn into pieces, it could still burn. Under the ice, it was boiling hot.
