The sun for morning, the moon for evening, you for day after day.
...
The third day.
It's a simple and understandable modern poem:
The day you came, spring also arrived.
The scenery was just right.
...
The fourth day, the fifth day...
From then on, every day when the sky started to lighten, Nan Wan would begin to yearn for the first ray of sunshine to fall through that tiny window.
Because, at daybreak, the door shackled by layers of iron chains would open.
The prison guard would bring an envelope that could help her get through this long day.
Over time, the quiet cellmate would pretend to ask casually, "Is it your husband writing to you? Does he... love you very much?"
From day to night, she would hold the letter paper and read it over and over.
Even though there were only a few words on the paper, how could she read it all day long?
In the deep autumn weather, although the sunlight was soft, the time spent in the prison was much shorter than in the summer.
