After her father passed away, Yan Zhiyao returned to Qingdao after seven years of absence. She was preparing to sell her old house in the old city. When she was sorting out her belongings, she discovered a yellowed photo studio pickup slip. The pickup date happened to be the day before she left Qingdao. In the roll of film that was seven years late, the last photo captured Zhou Jiming outside the train station. He held a letter in his hand, and Yan Zhiyao had never seen it. Seven years ago, she thought he had not come. Seven years later, she realized that he was only fifteen minutes late. When the old house was about to be sold, and when the past buried by the sea breeze resurfaced, they finally understood: What two people missed was never just a misunderstanding, but the unspoken expectations, hesitations and pride.
Some photos are not finished until they are developed.
Some tides span a long time, still waiting for an echo.
