When he was seven years old, Yan Li left city S with his mother.
To this day, he doesn't remember much. A vague figure called his brother, and a pair of warm and generous palms are all the memories of his family, and what followed was a long separation. The pace of life in City A is not too fast, just enough to accommodate Yan Li's entire youth. In thirteen years of youth, he could count on one hand the number of times his brother appeared. He thought his mother didn't care about him.
Until he got that call.
"Go home"
When I set foot in S city again, it was for my brother's funeral. The person in the photo frame in the four directions overlaps and separates from the silent boy in the memory.
He thought it was just a belated farewell, but he didn't know it was the beginning of everything.
The young man stood in the middle of the mourning hall. His black suit was well tailored, his face was pale but delicate, like a knife in a sheath. He turned around and looked sideways, looking past everyone and landing on Yan Li behind Yan Qiong, with a kind of disturbing and scrutinizing tenderness.
Yan Li listened to the expected greetings and relief and gradually realized that every word of this man seemed to be carefully calculated - just the right amount of sadness, closeness and hint.
Since this incident, his mother's strangeness, the Yan family's secrecy about the past, and countless late-night phone calls that have never been answered - all point to a truth that he doesn't want to face.
He thought he was a bystander, but he didn't know that he had been pushed to the forefront by his mother long ago - and the man who said he would help him find out the truth was carrying a knife that had been sharpened for ten years.
Intention: We spend our lives trying to see the truth clearly, but we forget that once we see the truth clearly, we can never look back.