share time: 2025-12-18 06:03:11
In the glow of the office building at 3 a.m., Lin Xiaoman’s eyes were red from staring at the computer screen — she’s the “workaholic queen” of the advertising agency who’s pulled all-nighters for half a month, even forgetting her mother’s birthday. The lily congee that appeared on her doorstep every day, the dried coat hanging on the doorknob, and the neatly pruned pothos on the balcony — she thought these were “thoughtful services” from the property management, but they were actually “little secrets” that Gu Shigui, the man next door in a khaki windbreaker, had been keeping for three years. Until she fainted in the elevator from a stomach bleed, and the hand she grabbed in a daze — carrying a familiar citrus scent —唤醒了 her childhood memories: it was the boy who gave her his only strawberry milk in elementary school, then quietly distanced himself because of her words, “I want to fight in the big city.” Waking up in the hospital and watching osmanthus petals drift in from the window, she realized the “success” she’d chased so hard had long blocked the warmest “autumn” in her life. When Gu Shigui stood at the door holding her favorite sugar-fried chestnuts and smiled, “Still warm,” she panicked suddenly: Would this man who’d waited for her for ten years, let her reclaim the autumn she’d missed?
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