share time: 2025-11-08 06:00:16
Lin Suisui runs her grandma's old teahouse, waiting every Winter Solstice for Chen Jianxia—the man who promised “I’ll make ginger tea with you every year” a decade ago. But this year, it’s Jianxia’s brother who arrives, holding a yellowed diary: His “detour” every year was a three-city journey; his absence last year hid a terminal illness surgery. As the ginger tea simmers in the copper stove, the door chime rings—there stands the man in an old scarf, holding a ginkgo leaf: “I’m here to keep last year’s promise.”
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