In the state-owned Red Star Machinery Factory in 1980, broadcaster Li Enxi was the flower of the cold mountains, but Lin Yun, who had just been released from prison, was the thorn that everyone avoided.
There was a power outage in the broadcast room on a sultry summer night. In the darkness, Lin Yun pressed her against the edge of the table, breathing hot but restrained: "Don't be afraid... I'll protect you." When his fingertips brushed the back of her trembling hand, his Adam's apple rolled, and his voice was hoarse and hot: "This place is well soundproofed. Please teach me... What does the word "in-depth communication" mean!
Later, he clumsily repaired the radio just to listen to her read poetry, and his ears turned red when he stuffed the sweet bean paste buns into her lunch box. When the flowers of the high mountain dropped their guard and their thorns hid their sharpness, in the spring breeze of reform, they crushed their prejudices and walked out of the fiery life in the world of fireworks.
