The rainy season in Haicheng always carries the smell of acetic acid in the darkroom. Xia Yanxiao, the founder of a commercial photography studio, picked up a falling silk scarf at the airport, but he didn't know that it was the last safety rope in the life of war photographer Lin Muyu.
30-Year-old Xia Yanxiao is the spokesperson of exquisite egoism. She has run two photography studios into industry benchmarks, but she has never been able to escape the shadow of her father's domestic violence - until she met 24-year-old Lin Muyu. This young photographer is as cold as a darkroom safety light. His left hand bears a war injury that cannot be fully lifted, but his right eye can see through the most secret pain of commercial shooting. When Lin Muyu used a Hasselblad camera to take a picture of Xia Yanxiao's hands holding blood stains during the negotiation, the two souls burned by fate began to rub the scars on each other in the developer.
Xia Yanxiao opened Lin's battlefield package and found that 17 rolls of undeveloped film were all full of his silhouette; Lin Muyu found photos of childhood cigarette scars in a hidden compartment of Xia's desk and made them into works of art using the gold foil cracking technique. When they kiss in the darkroom, the smell of nitrocellulose mixes with cologne, and the facade of commercial society is pierced by the lies of double exposure. Until the formal marriage agreement fell like a guillotine and the night Xia Yanxiao put on her wedding ring, Lin Muyu's depression turned into a scheduled email on the black beach of Iceland - she mixed fluoxetine into Turkish delight and sank into the sea at minus 30 degrees Celsius with a darkroom thermometer.
When Xia Yanxiao tore open Lin Muyu's film girdle in the morgue and discovered that all "commercial photography" had battlefield diary written on the back; when the forensic report showed that the bitter orange perfume formula they jointly created flowed in Lin's blood; when the blue iris specimen suddenly bloomed at the wedding scene - this redemption started with a car accident in a heavy rain, and finally used developer to write funeral invitations.
In this world where even the rainbow has to be calibrated for color temperature, the most desperate tragedy is not death. It was me holding your ashes that made me understand that hidden in all the undeveloped negatives was the wedding we should have had.
Purpose: Redemption, fictional novel, don't criticize if you don't like it