The rain was still falling. Zhang Xinyou and the girl stood shoulder to shoulder beneath the eaves, facing a world of white. They had no idea where they were or where to go, but neither of them cared. They stood in silence, neither saying a word. All they could hear was the rain hitting the floor: drip, drip.
He suddenly took the girl's hand. She lowered her head shyly, but her small hand remained quietly nestled in his palm.
Zhang Xinyou's grip tightened, as if he were holding a soft ball of cotton. He didn't know how long forever was. He only hoped that time would stop in this moment and remain still forever.
Theme: Transmigration and love.
