Seventeen-year-old Lin Xingchen spoke as a freshman representative in the high school auditorium. The sun was shining brightly that day, and the manuscript was very vulgar. She was so nervous that her palms became sweaty.
Lu Huiyin came in wet because she was late for training, disrupting her heartbeat and becoming the most unexpected event in her youth.
They had exchanged their first tender kiss under the stars on the rooftop, and promised a vague future in the playground on a rainy night. Everyone thought they were made for each other.
Until a well-designed misunderstanding and a sudden family accident turned the phrase "temporarily separated" into a silence that spanned seven years.
At the age of twenty-seven, they met again at a meeting on a historical building renovation project on the Bund in Shanghai.
He is a calm and sharp architectural designer, and she is an independent and tenacious documentary filmmaker.
Across the long conference table, the speed with which he turned his pen betrayed his thoughts, and her habit of rubbing her earlobes had not changed.
Those unspoken words and untied knots are undercurrents under the dignity and restraint of adults.
Lu Huiyin said, "I'm not here to make up for the past, Lin Xingchen, I'm here to get to know you again."
And Lin Xingchen finally admitted in the night breeze of Huangpu River: "It turns out that I have never really stopped loving you in the past seven years."
This is a story about time, misunderstanding and growth.
It's not about going back to seventeen, but falling in love again at twenty-seven with the traces of being seventeen.
Intent: A true reunion is not about repairing the cracks, but about acknowledging the existence of the cracks and building a stronger relationship on top of them.
