The day Simon Shen entered Beijing from a small northern town, he had window grilles cut by his grandmother and a heart with irregular heartbeat in his pocket. She thought that meeting Lu Zhenghuai was because fate was finally willing to smile at her - the proud son of Tsinghua University School of Economics and Management, who smiled like the spring breeze and calculated like a knife. He loved the scar on her wrist, and she believed in the cold light in his eyes. But the Lu family's access control was higher than she imagined, and his love always required calculating the input-output ratio.
At the same time, Fang Chi buried his secret love for her in the geological map for ten years. He didn't talk about love, he just sat downstairs on the rainy night when she was at her most devastated, and handed her a map when she set off for a distant place: "There is an aurora here, I'll step on it for you."
Later, Shen Simon spent eight years switching from the Department of Architecture to Geology, from being abandoned to being complete, from waiting for someone to saying goodbye to someone. The avalanche in southern Tibet swallowed up Fang Chi and all her escape routes.
Standing at her first architecture exhibition, she finally understood: some love is chosen, and some love grows underground. And her compass, after ten years of use, finally pointed to herself.
