In November, Qiu Zhiqiu was rescued from the rubble after an explosion.
She lost an eye, a ring finger, and a ring that she had worn for seven years. In the interrogation room, the person she was waiting for did not come. The recording of her saying "it has nothing to do with me" became the final footnote of that relationship. She was sent to a suburban sanatorium with seventeen unhealed wounds and an empty eye socket.
There, she met Xia Zhixia.
Xia Zhixia is her caregiver. She is 23 years old. She will bring books to read to her, fold a small corner of the gauze at the end of the bandage, and quietly write "Wait for me" on the back of the bookmark. She didn't know what Qiu Zhiqiu had gone through. She just changed her dressing, delivered water, closed the curtains, and accompanied her through nightmare nights with the sound of turning pages in the middle of the night. A person who doesn't believe in autumn and a person who was born in summer slowly approach each other in a ward where camphor trees can be seen.
This is not a story about being "rescued." Both people are groping forward on their own tracks - one is learning to breathe again in the ashes, and the other is learning to wait in the unnamed heartbeat. The November wind will blow off the last leaves and bring news of spring.
Concept: Sometimes people don't need meaning in life, they just need a reason. And that reason may just be that someone will come to change your dressing tomorrow.