Heart Dances with the Wind

Thirty-three days, from taking the blame to turning the tables. Wu Xiaohan thought that it would be fine just to survive the CSC project. After getting through it, it was the phone call that woke her up in the middle of the night, the roar from Party A in the conference room, and the email that asked her to cut her salary, reflect on her mistakes, and send her year-end bonus "back to her great-grandma's pocket." But she didn't know that at the same time, Hongying finished her last cigarette on the rooftop. This woman who has been struggling in the workplace for ten years has a pair of bottomless black eyes and a name that she has followed for ten years but will never see the light of day. She protected Wu Xiaohan because she saw herself in Wu Xiaohan - the self who ran rampant back then and thought that love could be a meal. She handed over the bank card she had saved for ten years and said, "No need for it anymore." Three words, ten years of youth. Li Qian was also in the dark. During the few months he was transferred, he went through materials that could land someone in jail, and found a key tape at a flea market—for fifty yuan, he bought a man's life. The first time he came back, he just nodded. The hand was hanging in the air, saying nothing, but everything was said. Someone is in the pit, someone reaches out to pull her; someone is in the dark, someone carries it for her. Wu Xiaohan later understood: Some water will flow away and merge into new tributaries; at some turns, we will be temporarily separated. But as long as the river bed remains, those common memories will ripple tenderly again. Thirty-three days, from sitting alone to someone holding her hand. This is a group of people in a big city who give each other a little bit of light. Intention: Thirty-three days, from being carried by one person to someone holding her hand. This is not a story about "winning", it is about three ordinary people giving each other a little light in their own darkness. Wu Xiaohan was in the pit, Hongying finished her last cigarette on the rooftop, and Li Qian was looking through materials in the small hotel. None of them said "I'll help you," but they all extended their hands. Someone hung his hand for three years and finally dropped it. After getting over it, spring will really come.