Ancient town. Misty rain. Oil paper umbrella.
A pomegranate tree, a courtyard, a story about oil-paper umbrellas.
Parting, meeting, and meeting again, the two of them had their own thoughts and could not express themselves or open their mouths. The friendship that seems to be the same on the surface has actually changed quietly, and finally...
In the end, only the oil-paper umbrella was used to record everything.