The first time Xu Shihe met Lu Yijiang was in a coffee shop at four o'clock in the morning. He pushed open the door and came in, feeling the chill of a winter night. His camera hung on his chest, and there were tiny drops of water on the lenses. "An Americano, thank you." His voice was low, as if it had been polished with sandpaper. Later she found out that that day, he had just finished taking pictures of the starry sky all night and came down from the top of the mountain in the suburbs. This cafe was the only one with lights on in the whole city. What she didn't know was that the brightest star in his lens that day was actually the arc of her hair hanging down when she lowered her head to grind the beans.
Intention: Because you are my star, I can see it when I look up.