My wife, Chen Mo, slapped a piece of divorce agreement in front of me and gave me a ridiculous alternative: The two of us would be disconnected from the Internet for 24 hours, our phones would be locked in an iron box, and she would keep the key.
I scoffed until she quietly disappeared after the experiment started, leaving only a note: "Find me within 24 hours, maybe we can get acquainted again."
In the following time, I traveled through the city like a madman, deciphering the clues she left behind. Those places connect us in the seven years of love, commitment, hurt and alienation. Until the end, the ultimate question emerged: Do I still remember the last time I said "I love you" to her?
When I was finally in front of her, she said: "Mu Ran, these 24 hours, I am not waiting for you to find me, I am waiting for myself to find the courage to leave."
Intention: What I try my best to find is you who I have lost in the years.