"Late Spring Cold" is about a winter with "no smoke and no smell". The mother polishes the dignity of other people's homes in the confinement center, but when she returns home, she seals the window cracks with old newspapers and tape; the father swallows the pain with his wounds, just thinking about saving; the teenager hides his shame in his grades, secretly holds a letter of intent for recommendation, and waits for a "suitable night" to hand it to them. In order to have a decent reunion, my mother gritted her teeth and bought back a box of M9 Snowflake Fatty Beef, and my father lit the cleanest silver charcoal - they thought it was good for the family. The hot pot is sizzling, the aroma of meat rises, the narcissus sprouts a green bud by the window, the warmth is like spring coming early, and even the silence becomes soft. But the "cleaner" things are, the more dangerous they are: Death wears the cloak of an angel and quietly sits on this small table. The story uses the jingle of coins, the click of barcodes, and the prick of tape to weave an invisible web; it uses a gentle dream to bring readers to the most painful truth. You will hope that they will survive, while watching the "spring" come back in the brightest light.
Intention: In the cold and difficult times, we must hold on to each other and hope, and move toward spring.