share time: 2025-11-17 02:31:56
Su Xiaoman has waited for Lin Chuan under the century-old peach tree in the old yard for three full years—back then, he had said, “When the peach blossoms bloom next year, I’ll come pick you up on a white horse.” But this year, when the blossoms overflow the yard walls, Lin Chuan stands under the tree in a crisp suit, with a teary-eyed delicate young lady on his arm. He says, “I’m getting married,” his tone as cold as late autumn wind. Yet Xiaoman catches him burning old love letters under the peach tree at midnight, with a crumpled cancer diagnosis in his pocket. When the last peach blossom falls into her palm, will she expose this “changed old love,” or turn the remaining time into a jar of peach wine for the two of them?
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