Ran He didn't expect to meet Shang Fang at this time. For six years, she squatted by the drainage ditch of Greenhouse No. 12, And her fingers were touching the edge of the insect-proof apron inch by inch - it was too tight, the base material was squeezed and deformed, sand mixed with fine concrete residue leaked from the gaps, and thrips were lining up to burrow inside. Before she could get the tape, the voice sounded behind her.
Shang Fang wore a crisply ironed white shirt, and his watch was dazzling in the sun. He came back to discuss a project. A cold chain logistics center was to be built in the village and half of the thirty greenhouses had to be demolished. When he left, he said he wanted to pursue his ideals in the city. She stayed in this greenhouse guarding those films. He came back six years later, but he came to tear down the things she had guarded for half her life.
The heat gun in Ran He's hand fell to the ground. She thought of the membranes they had applied together in those years. The temperature difference between day and night caused the membrane to expand and contract. The strong winds pulled at the edges of the membrane, cracked and curled it. If the membrane was not tight enough, insects would eat the seedlings. The film can surround the stability of fruits and vegetables for a season, but it can never surround a heart that wants to go far away. Now he stood in front of her, and there was something between them that was no longer transparent.
