Guicheng's return to Nantian is here again.
The walls were covered with water drops, the air was full of moisture, and the whole city seemed to be soaked in a glass of warm water. Zhao Shuochen came back from the north to sort out the old belongings of his deceased grandmother. The old injury recurred in the dampness, and he was admitted to the hospital. In the bed next to him was a child named Yan Nanxun.
The child's brother comes every evening with water mist on his coat.
Zhao Shuochen thought that person looked familiar. An indescribable, vague feeling that was smudged by water vapor - he was sure he didn't recognize him, but every time that person walked into the ward, he would raise his head first.
"Have we met before?" He asked.
The other party paused and said, "No."
He lied to him.
When they met ten years ago, they were also returning to Nantian. We live in the same unit building, go to and from school together, and squat under the wet walls to eat rice noodles together. The young man's feelings were like mist, filling every corner silently, and no one spoke.
Later, Zhao Shuochen returned to the north and forgot everything about Guicheng. He didn't know on which road his old wounds had fallen, nor did he know what the faint sourness reminded him of every time there was a slight tide in early spring.
Yan Nanyin has been staying in Guicheng for the past ten years. He thought that Zhao Shuochen was living a good life in the north and that his choice back then was the right one.
Until they met again in Nantianli, he stood at the door of the ward and saw Zhao Shuochen's unfamiliar eyes.
Those unsaid words, after ten years, turned into rain returning to the south. Thinly and densely, drop by drop, it fell on the distance between the two people that no one dared to cross first.
Concept: Some people's love is engraved in their bones, and even if their brains forget it, their bodies still remember it; some people's guilt grows in their flesh and blood, and the pain will start all over again when they meet that person. The weather will pass and the sun will come out, but the moisture that has seeped into the cracks in the walls over the years will not really disappear - they will just dry out and come back to life when the humidity returns the next spring. Just like the rainy season in my childhood, it never really ended. It was just waiting for a return to the south, waiting for those unsaid words to finally be lifted up by the water vapor.
