Chen Ye is like a mountain thinned by wind and rain.
When he was young, his life was full of sunshine, until his father passed away unexpectedly, and the oil and debt in the repair shop drowned out his laughter. He became silent and cold, like a piece of unpolished iron, but he took in a few homeless children at the end of the alley and taught them clumsily how to use a wrench to tighten the loose screws of life.
Linhe is a breeze that has nowhere to stay.
After his mother died of illness, his father remarried and there was no place for him in the new family. He returned to this town with his camera and full of confusion, trying to find direction from old memories. Until one day, he noticed the tall figure bending down to repair the car - the sunburned back of his neck, the scabbed knuckles, and the eyes that were darker than motor oil.
When the breeze blows through the mountains:
Lin He photographed the withering old craftsmanship on East Street, but Chen Ye's repair shop always appeared in the corner of the camera; Chen Ye silently repaired Lin He's leaky roof, but left a mint in the tool box; one day, Lin He said in the attic: "Look, do we look like two scrapped parts?"
Chen Ye touched his face with a hand covered in engine oil: "But it can still be used."
This is a story about "stay"
About a wandering wind that finally found a mountain that was willing to rise and fall for him;
About a lonely mountain, I learned to echo gently when the wind passes by.
——"I don't need you to become anything," Chen Ye said, "you just need to blow towards me, that's enough."
Concept: Find the modern soul of rural China at the intersection of machinery, light and shadow
