When Chen Tingxu kneaded the dough, the arc of his wrists turned like a moonrise over a mountain.
Gu Xun was fascinated by it the first time he saw it. His wild horse that had been running on West Street for twenty-three years suddenly wanted to be tied up in this old shop with the smell of flour and never go anywhere.
He climbed over the wall to send jujubes, and she turned them into wine; he yelled "I love you" in the street, and she blushed and pulled him to hide behind the noodle vat. He said he would knead dough for her for the rest of his life. She smiled and powdered his face: "Stand still first."
She didn't know that in order to imitate her skill in kneading dough, he practiced secretly in the middle of the night until his wrists were swollen into steamed buns; he didn't know that she kneaded a pair of little figures with dough on the grasshopper cage he gave her - one was making trouble and the other was laughing.
Intention: The deepest love is not possession, but in the long river of time, using your whole life to prove "I remember".