Jinju Hunting Shadow

The net woven by rain silk covers the morning and dusk in Nancheng Town. The vegetable leaves in the market are stained with wet mud, and the shacks in the vegetable fields hide shadows. Those teenagers who disappeared in the rainy night are like unfinished sentences, broken off at the most vivid paragraph. Some people have been holding on to old things for half their lives, and the notches on the brass keychains reflect the expectations that have not faded for fifteen years; some people stay up all night watching the lights, and the handwriting on the admission notice still retains the promise of the young man to return home. The sodium lamps in the old neighborhood are dim and cannot illuminate the folds of people's hearts, let alone the silence that has been deliberately covered up. Figures wearing straw hats shuttled between vegetable stalls and field ridges. There was an inexplicable fishy smell mixed in the soil. The so-called "game" was a mystery that I didn't dare to dig into. The wall of silence is getting higher and higher. On one side is the dim light of the people. Some people are hunting in the darkness, some are tracking in the fog, and some are struggling in guilt. This is not a simple pursuit, but a game of human nature in the moist air - the intersection between daily life and sin, the entanglement between obsession and justice, and the pull between redemption and sinking. The rain will stop and the fog will disperse, but the truth buried in the soil and the scars hidden in the heart will eventually come out at some point. The wind in Nancheng Town blows through the dry wells in the vegetable fields, and also blows through the cold conscience. When all the weak lights come together, can they break through the shadow that has been entrenched for many years? The answer is hidden in every step that has not returned, and in every gaze that refuses to give up.