share time: 2025-11-26 06:00:39
Lin Xiaoman has waited three years under the century-old osmanthus tree in the old lane south of the city, keeping the promise she made with Chen Mo: "We'll settle down when the flowers bloom." But when Chen Mo finally stands under the tree, he holds a notice of an overseas transfer. Xiaoman hides her new wig (after chemotherapy) and says with a smile, "I support you," only to be suddenly hugged by Chen Mo—he’s clutching her cancer diagnosis that fell on the desk corner. "I saw it last time I helped you tidy the drawer," Chen Mo rests his chin on her head, the osmanthus fragrance mixed with his sobs: "The flowers in South City are blooming. This time, let me ask you—will you still leave?"
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