There is a pet funeral shop deep in the old street. The owner Lin Wanci has a secret - she can hear the voices of deceased animals.
She could hear all the unspoken attachments, forgiveness, and instructions.
Until that day, when she was comforting a deceased golden retriever in the air, she was bumped into by the veterinarian Lu Zeyan who was passing by.
He heard a whimper. Instruments detected unexplained bioacoustic anomalies.
"I don't believe in ghosts and gods," he said, "but I want to study you."
From that day on, this gentle and restrained man became the only "human anchor" in her lonely world.
In the process of bidding farewell to one furry after another, Lin Wanci glimpsed too many truths about the world - the hypocrisy and guilt of missing out on companionship after working overtime, the desire to control in the name of love, and the traces of abuse that decent people try to hide. She never revealed the truth, but gently relayed the animals' last thoughts, letting the truth emerge in the owner's heart and letting the regrets rest.
Until she collapsed emotionally during a rescue, Lu Zeyan witnessed her using her grandmother's old bell to comfort an invisible being.
He didn't back away.
"The concentration of negative ions in the air around you has just increased." He held her cold hand, "Are you tired?"
He used his science to embrace all her "abnormalities".
The soothing incense, old bells, and wordless notes hidden in the old store gradually pieced together the truth about my grandmother's lifelong care - the entire city's decades of parting obsession were accumulated here.
Lin Wanci was the last ferryman to take over the purification process.
It turns out that love is never possession, it is a decent farewell and being remembered.
Death is not the end, oblivion is.
Intention: All things have animism, and parting has a sound. The real farewell is not to forget, but to let every unfinished love and regret be heard tenderly and properly placed.