"No one comes and goes in a hurry."
Qin Huai put down his pen, picked up the paper with cursive writing and looked at it carefully, his unknown smile melting into the sunshine outside the window.
The pen and ink are splashed across the water towns in the south of the Yangtze River.
He is back, home.
When he was a child, Qin Huai didn't understand what home was or where it was. He doesn't even know how to miss his family and take care of his family. Now that the old friend has returned, Jiangnan is sleeping in the dream of a wandering boy, disappearing in time along with the handwriting.