The warm light of the flower shop spread through the glass. Shen Qingtong was repotting a pot of succulents, and Fang Xuanti was leaning on the door frame to read the script.
"This pot of 'Long Moon' has been cultivated for ten years." Shen Qingtong brushed the leaves with her fingertips, "When it first arrived, it was wrinkled, like the draft of the script you handed over for the first time."
Fang Xuanti paused the tip of his pen on the paper, and when he raised his eyes, his eyelashes were caught in the sunset: "A certain person was squatting in the flower bed to catch a 'flower thief', holding an "Illustrated Book of Plants" in his hand, and almost thought I was a dodder."
The tips of Shen Qingtong's ears turned red, and he sprinkled a handful of slow-release fertilizer into the flowerpot.
"What about the pebbles I picked up on the river beach later?" Fang Xuanti suddenly asked, "The one with the words engraved on it."
"Put it under the first version of the script you sent." Shen Qingtong lowered his voice, "On a certain page, someone drew a crooked-necked tree."
Fang Xuanti closed the book, and the reflection on the glass overlapped with the boy from ten years ago.
"I heard that someone's new script is missing a protagonist."
"I heard that someone's flower shop is short of a resident screenwriter."
The wind swept over the window sill, and the fleshy leaves touched each other, making a rustling sound like unfinished words.
Concept: Plants can cross north and south, thoughts can pass through wind and snow