Xiang Fu is a drifter from the Paris Design Institute, and Bai Yi is a painter obsessed with naming all things. They once sat side by side in the mist of Qingcheng Mountain, shared a bowl of hot soup in an old house in Chongqing, and hid three unfinished paintings in an alley in Shanghai. Rain is the background of the story - the wind in Paris brings a chill, the rain in Qingcheng Mountain blocks the road ahead, and the never-ending "sheep rain" in Naples becomes their tacit code.
They measure the cracks in the world with their footsteps: their mother's death is like an avalanche, their father's indifference is like a rusty chain, and their encounter and alienation are the thorns and sugar given by fate. Bai Yi said: "There are only a few logics in a name, but regrets are always longer than visions." Xiang Fu tightened his grip on the handle of his umbrella, and the smudged spring on the umbrella seemed to laugh at the fate of wandering.
When the death of Cross (the cat with white wings) tears apart the peace, and when an email announces that the unrecovered painting becomes a metaphor, they re-examine themselves in the rain in Paris and Naples - are they wandering souls trapped in the order of Qingcheng Mountain, or birds that escape the termites?
This is a whisper about escape and return.
"We still go back and survive in the end. Two words that are like an innate connection."
"I shouldn't talk about you anymore. If I don't talk about you, you will be completely mine in my memory."
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Keywords: Lily·Wandering literature·Growing pain·Poetic metaphor
Suitable for: Readers who prefer delicate emotions, urban wandering narratives and literary short stories
Concept: How could I be so stupid as to think that I am someone's genius girlfriend? I am a person who has given up on the past. I should not talk about you anymore. If I don't talk about you, you will completely belong to me in my memory.