Loquat Rain Under the Eaves

Loquat rain under the eaves A sticky rain in late spring caused children's eloquence teacher Lin Wan to crash into the "Inkstone Hall" deep in a narrow alley. In the studio where the fragrance of ink lingered, she met Chen Yan, a calligraphy teacher guarding the old building and the loquat tree - a stubborn craftsman with ink on his fingertips and gentle eyebrows. An unpolished peach wood loquat paperweight became the starting point of their fate. She came to ask for help with her children's recitations, and he highlighted the words "Listening to the rain under the eaves, and there is a clear sky in my heart." He held a parent-child calligraphy class, and she led a group of chirping children, adding fireworks to the quiet ink room. From the eloquent talk at the calligraphy exhibition to the side-by-side waving of calligraphy at the Summer Night Book Club, the handwriting of "Wan" and "Inkstone" nestled on the rice paper, and the fragrance of ink and the sweet fragrance of loquat intertwined to form the most tender confession. This is a slow love hidden in the fireworks of the city. There is no vigorous and bloody scene, only the steady flow of companionship and understanding. He writes his thoughts with pen and ink, and she conveys warmth with her voice. In each other's world, the two are soul confidants and the light on the road to growth. Thirty chapters of warm-hearted serialization record every moment when they first met and stayed together, watching how an ordinary man and woman, in a fast-paced city, used pen and ink as matchmakers and sincerity as their employer, turned their ordinary life into poetry, letting the rain of loquats under the eaves shed a lifetime of sunshine.