A person's diary, a screenwriter's seven years.
When Shen Zaixi first saw Lu Yu, he was still picking up a broken cigarette in the rehearsal hall of the Chinese Opera. The second time she saw him, he was already sitting on the set opposite her, reading the script she wrote.
There was a gap of seven years. In the past seven years, she had been his website sister, written his Amway articles, stored all his materials, answered dozens of questions about him on Zhihu, and then closed the website, locked all traces into the hard drive, and pretended that nothing had happened.
She didn't expect that she would meet him again. She never expected that he would say to her: "Your comments are very similar to my habit of writing scripts."
He was just one step away from that answer. And she wasn't ready to say, "I wrote that account."
