When he was seven years old, Chen Du pried open the iron door of the basement and thrust a box of warm milk into Lin Zhao's hand. "It will always be bright, trust me."
Twenty years later, Lin Zhao became a criminal policeman and Chen Du became an undercover agent. When the ninety-eighth postcard arrived, there were only four words written on it: "Lin Zhao, don't come."
When Lin Zhao rushed into the glass factory, Chen Du was hanging in the air, with no intact skin on his body. He used his last strength to mouth--I'm sorry.
Gunshots were fired. The siren went off. Two tombstones stand side by side in the snow of Nanshan. Every year, someone comes to put two boxes of milk, one warm and one cold.
Before dawn, they all went home.
Intention: Some days will dawn and you have to wait for them all your life; some days I'm sorry and you'll never have it, it doesn't matter
