Wan Shanjun has never seen anything like this in all his years as a reporter. Until someone asked her: Where were you on the night of December 16, 2014?
She couldn't answer. She only remembered dreaming about water every night from then on, and someone calling her nickname in her dream. When she woke up, the pillow was dry - she hadn't cried in twenty years, and she had forgotten what crying was.
The first time Xu Buyi saw her was in his consulting room. The other party handed over his business card: Reporter, I would like to ask you for an interview. Xu Buji said yes and said in his heart: I have seen you.
She kept this secret for six years. Hiding it until the interview becomes eating, eating becomes living life, hiding it until the other party said on the riverside: I won't hide anything from you.
She said, OK. That half-second pause later cost them both half their lives.
A closed correctional school, a girl who could not get out, a sixty-three-word notice, and a group of people who have been silent for thirteen years. Two adults, one digging and the other picking up, turned over old cases and brought each other home.
Intention: Give them their names back.