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The old locust trees at the alley have fallen and become green again, and the gardenias in the yard have bloomed and faded. Lin Zhi first met Gu Shen in midsummer when the shelves were filled with the fragrance of gardenias. She ran into his arms holding the book. Among the scattered pages, there was a freshly picked gardenia, dazzlingly white. At that time, she was a shy and sensitive painter, and he was a silent but gentle architect; later she dared to bargain with the stall owner for a dollar in the vegetable market, and he would stew the cold ribs until they were piping hot again. From wandering in the south to returning home in the north, from cautious exploration to staying together naturally, their story has no earth-shattering twists and turns, only the fragrance of soy milk hidden in the morning light, the smell of paint in the studio, and the sweetness of gardenias in the courtyard. "Gu Shen, look at this flower, it blooms every year." "Well, just like us." This is a story about waiting and return, plainness and warmth, dedicated to all those who believe in the "long-lasting flow of water".