Evening Mist and Drizzle

Evening smoke and scattered rain. An old city, an unknown river, and a 20-square-meter rental house. Seventeen-year-old Shen Muyan wrote down her thoughts in a black-covered notebook, never thinking that someone would one day understand it. Gu Yan is the new neighbor who moved next door. A bowl of mung bean soup, a red string on the wrist, and the sentence "Don't go hungry", that's all. Their interactions are as light as water, but they inadvertently seep into each other's daily lives - chance encounters by the river on rainy days, brief greetings in the corridor, and the faint light separated by a wall in the middle of the night. This is a story about slow approaching. There was no excitement, no ups and downs, just two lonely people. In their respective lives, they slowly discovered that it was warm enough to have someone standing not far away. There is mist and rain at dusk, no rush or impatience. I hope you have patience and accompany me to walk this road slowly.