Inside the theater, the dazzling lights shining from the ceiling slowly dimmed, and the surrounding audience's conversations gradually quieted down.

The Golden Apple Theatre's centennial celebration special is now ready to begin.

As the stage lights suddenly came on, melodious music emanated from the orchestra pit.

Then, the twinkling lights on the theater ceiling were turned on again.

A gentle and melodious tune slowly opened the curtain on the performance.

The story begins in a slightly remote but very peaceful town.

Due to its favorable climate, this area is ideal for growing wheat.

As a result, the town's pastries became famous far and wide, and most of the residents made a living from them.

The sweetness of honey, the heat of baking, and the rich aroma of wheat.

The aroma of wheat and bread lingers in this small town year-round.

Under the gentle light, the figure of a girl harvesting wheat appeared on the stage.

The girl bent down and used her sickle to cut handfuls of golden wheat.

To make her work easier, she wore a light yellow straw hat to shield herself from the scorching sun.

Her long silver hair was also braided into a plait and hung down her back.

With each movement, the ends of her fine braids swayed gently at her waist.

At this moment, she straightened up and was wiping the fine sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

Looking at the vast expanse of ripe wheat, the girl's face broke into a bright smile.

"Triston, I'm going home!"

"It's late! Let's walk home together!"

"Okay! Let's go back together!"

Hearing her companions calling from not far away, Triston jumped up happily and waved in their direction.

Holding a handful of golden wheat ears, she picked up a basket from the ground, intending to reunite with her two companions.

A vibrant and radiant young girl, with the golden ears of wheat she has harvested in her hands.

Although the personality and characteristics he displayed seem to be different from what they are now.

However, the strikingly similar names and appearances made Gu Xinghe realize it almost immediately.

Perhaps this is a play adapted from Theresa May's experiences.

We walked together on the path home, with wheat still waiting to be harvested on both sides.

The three girls were surrounded by golden wheat.

Unwittingly, some grains of wheat ended up stuck in the girls' hair and on their clothes.

Their hairstyles and clothes, adorned with gold particles, added a touch of cuteness and casualness to their appearance.

The three of them laughed and joked all the way, and despite working hard all day, they still didn't seem tired.

"The wheat fields rippled with golden light—"

As she strolled leisurely home, Triston began humming a lullaby she had heard from her parents.

In the small town where Triston lives.

It seems that no one knows when this folk song originated, or who created it.

But this song has been passed down through generations in their small town, becoming a well-known melody in the town.

Triston started it off.

The other two girls then happily joined in the "field concert"—

The wheat fields rippled and shimmered with golden light.

The aroma of bread filled the town

Golden wheat

As bright and passionate as the sun

I drifted into a warm dream.

...

The songs passed down through generations contain joyful lyrics that celebrate the wheat harvest.

There was no accompanying music playing in the orchestra pit at this moment, but the clear voices of the three girls did not sound monotonous.

Without any accompaniment, the simple and unpretentious song sounds even more gentle.

It's like being immersed in honey water, making you unconsciously addicted to it.

The girls' singing is the best embellishment on this way home, in this wheat field, and on this stage.

They held hands, their faces beaming with smiles, with the golden sunset and golden waves of wheat behind them.

A gentle breeze rustled the wheat ears, carrying the girls' songs into the distance.

As the sun sets, the lights in the theater gradually dim again.

As the lights slowly came on again, the backdrop on the stage transformed into a slightly bustling market.

"Triston, are you shopping at the market today too?"

"Yes, Aunt Liya, please give me a bag of apples."

Upon hearing this, the woman selling apples skillfully picked out several plump and red apples from her stall and packed them up.

She handed the bag full of fruit to Triston, and then took the money from her.

No longer busy working in the fields, Triston, a young girl, now strolls through the town's market.

The girl's figure was like a hopping little bird, moving between different stalls.

Tristan moved gracefully to the rhythm of the cheerful minor keys in the orchestra pit, as if she were dancing.

Most of the time, she didn't buy anything; she just wandered around, chatting happily with the stall owners.

They might chat about everyday things or listen to the troubles they've been telling each other.

Despite appearing to be troublesome customers who only look and don't buy, no one was impatient with Triston.

There are not many residents living in this small town.

In this remote and quiet town, the pace of life has slowed down.

Neighborly concern is extremely common.

Just like the ever-present aroma of wheat and bread in this small town—

Warm, sweet, and soft.

As Tristan's perspective unfolds, the unique personalities of the town's residents are revealed to the audience one by one.

Aunt Liya, who sells apples, is troubled by her two naughty sons.

Uncle Croton, who gifted Triston a sunflower, was delighted by the bountiful wheat harvest.

Grandma Norris offered freshly baked bread to the girl who was happily wandering through the market.

A playful child on the street invited a girl of similar age to play hide-and-seek with him.

Unfortunately, the boy who was assigned the role of "it" was caught by Aunt Liya halfway through the game and taken home to do his homework.

Flowers, a market, and a silver-haired girl returning home laden with her purchases.

Perhaps it doesn't need overly ornate and embellished language.

Just a few simple words are enough to paint a beautiful picture of the town's market at this moment.

At this moment, Triston is an ordinary girl from a small town.

Ordinary, yet carefree.

She is innocent, naive, and lively, and that is her most authentic self.

However, like all dramas that start with a happy ending...

The most beautiful things are always meant to be destroyed.

A simple life that brings everyone contentment can be destroyed in an instant.

Disaster soon befell the town.