That bowl of tea has long since cooled down.
Xie Gu remembered that when he first met Lin Yan, he looked like an ancient painting that had been soaked in water, with cold tones and blurred edges. He approached just to see the fog clearly, but he didn't know that he had stepped into a dampness from which he could not escape.
Lin Yan's eyes were as cold as rust, like wet moss, silently crawling over the cracks in his bones. It was not an ordinary gaze, but a kind of extreme possession, as if Xie Gu was a piece of porcelain placed in the window, which had long been secretly marked.
The tea has cooled down and a thin layer of skin has formed on the surface. To express gratitude, pick it up, not to drink it, but to hold it in your mouth. The tea soup slides down the throat, carrying old dirt, smooth but suffocating. He tried to struggle and wipe it away, but the dark brown liquid had already seeped into the fabric of life.
Can't wash it off.
This is a morbid symbiosis, like mold stains clinging to wallpaper, like tea stains etching porcelain cups. Xie Gu and Lin Yan, in the indulgence of time, plundered each other, rotted each other, and eventually grew into nails that could not be pulled out of each other's bodies.
The tea stains are mottled, and the person is no longer human.
Only this lingering trace remains, which will always shine coldly through the years.
Purpose: To explore the ultimate symbiosis of emotional bondage and pathology, using "tea stains" as a metaphor for the traces that time cannot wash away. In the cold atmosphere, it depicts the loneliness and possession deep in human nature, showing a incomplete, twisted but unyielding sense of destiny.