Wuqixi is a small seaside town. When the fog grows tired and sits down, it becomes rain. In an old Western-style house halfway up the hill is a counseling center with a green-painted wooden door and a container of umbrellas that anyone can take.
Wang Yulu has worked as the receptionist here for eight years. She is the first person to hear everyone's stories, but no one has ever asked about hers. When she can't argue with someone, she apologizes first. When she sees someone crying, she leaves the only coin she has. She loves cats, but only dares look at them from a distance. She treads lightly with the whole world, including herself.
Then, one rainy morning, a line in her own handwriting appeared in the ten o'clock slot of the appointment book, though she didn't remember writing it. Every piece of evidence said she had met that old gentleman. Only her memory said she hadn't. And she nearly believed the evidence.
From that day on, people carrying secrets began pushing open the green-painted wooden door one by one. Behind each case stood a strange person and a story left unfinished. As she searched for the truth for others, she also began to reclaim her own things, little by little: first, the right to trust her memories, then the right to be angry, the right to say no, and the right to know she was worthy.
When the fog grows tired and sits down, it becomes rain.
(Writing ahead every day, healing through practice.)
Theme: Written for anyone who has been slowly diminished in a relationship: You are not the one with a problem. You can make mistakes, love the wrong person, be weak, and take detours. None of these things mean your life has failed. What truly matters is that you can always choose again and find your way back to yourself.
