Yu Shan is the only designer in China who incorporates Liuqing bamboo carving techniques into lotus pond anti-corrosion projects. She stubbornly believes that the 0.3 Mm green skin on the surface of the bamboo pile is the breath of the bamboo - if it is thinned, the charm of the bamboo will be damaged, and if it is thickened, it will easily become moldy. Shen Qinghuai, whom she hadn't seen for ten years, parachuted into the project as a water ecological restoration engineer, bringing with him his coating plan. He said, "It looks good, but it won't last long." She lost all her drawings.
What Shen Qinghuai didn't say was that the boy who cut bamboo leaves by the lotus pond on a summer night until his palms bled, had been secretly collecting every piece of her craft data for the past ten years. What Yushan didn't ask was that he still carried an old bamboo leaf that had faded into amber in his pocket. The two kept secrets that they had held back for ten years, and competed across the cordon on the north and south sides of the lotus pond - he secretly improved the anti-mildew formula for her, and she secretly wrote his coating method into the green plan. But no one would ask first: "Do you still like me?"
The green skin turned black and fell off under the repeated washing of the water line, and misunderstandings wormed their way into my heart like hyphae. It wasn't until the day when the bulldozers were about to knock down the dividing piles that Yu Shan discovered that there was a row of green bamboo piles polished to her standards hidden on the edges of Shen Qinghuai's covering - with a line of words engraved on them: "Yu Shan, look, we can coexist."
This is a story about 0.3Mm heart distance. Green skin is the face of bamboo, and it is also the last layer of window paper that two tough-talking people refuse to pierce. Fortunately, the bamboos can still grow new shoots when they are rotten, and they finally learn to stand side by side on the same waterfront.
