After six years of struggling in the Internet vortex in first-tier cities, Lin Zhixia has become a reliable adult with stable emotions and thoughtfulness in the eyes of others, but he has only lost himself.
The pressure of endless overtime work, endless interpersonal conflicts, and hastily ended relationships crushed her last nerve.
She submitted her resignation, dragged a suitcase, and returned alone to the old mud house left by her ancestors in the countryside.
The earthen walls were mottled, the eaves were covered with grass, and the wooden door was filled with years of dust. The whole village was waiting to see her unable to hold on and return to the city in embarrassment.
But Lin Zhixia wanted to be here and rebuild his life with his own hands.
Shoveling walls, mixing mud, renovating roofs, clearing wasteland and planting vegetables, in the steady work day after day, slowly peeled off the anxiety and please-pleaser personality.
By chance, I met Chen Yan, who returned to his hometown to stick to his craft as a carpenter. He is calm and restrained, with a full sense of proportion. He does not pry into the past or forcefully intervene, and only lends a hand when needed.
The two slowly met as neighbors, and in their daily fireworks, they saw each other's loneliness and scars hidden under the calm appearance.
The clay pot in the wall sealed her grandmother's half-life worries, and a short note revealed the bond between two generations across the years; when the city's high-paying invitation came again, she faced her heart, completely reconciled with the past, and firmly rooted in her hometown.
There is no grand confession, no bloody misunderstanding.
One courtyard with a vegetable garden, two old houses, three meals a day, four seasons, and sunset over the mountains.
We don't have to rush to the same crowded track. The place where we settle down with peace of mind is the best return date in this life.
Intention: Return to the hometown to find yourself