4:30

Beijing provides the quiet backdrop as Xiao Wu waits for his mother to return from an overseas trip. With her away, Jung arrives as the lone tenant and the house settles into a tense quiet. The provisional arrangement sharpens Xiao Wu's loneliness and longing for connection.

Jung is introduced as distant and withdrawn, carrying an unspoken burden that he rarely shares. His mood and behavior create an emotional gap between him and Xiao Wu. The tension between them grows as the absence of a clear explanation deepens the unease in the house.

Xiao Wu, a friendless boy, flounders at school and clings to small routines to feel seen. He begins quirky habits—visiting clinics for cough syrup, playing with furniture, and cataloging the household—designed to bridge the growing distance with Jung. These acts reveal his longing for closeness and control in a space that feels unsettled.

Night after night, Xiao Wu slips into Jung's room in the pre-dawn hours and takes a single item. He records these stolen items in a notebook, building a private, intimate portrait of Jung. The ritual reveals his desperate attempt to know Jung and feel connected.

The notebook fills with entries about Jung's belongings and memories, turning into a fragile map of closeness. Xiao Wu interprets the items as clues to Jung's inner world and begins to understand the man's presence as essential to his own sense of self. The act deepens the emotional entanglement between them.

Xiao Wu sits beside Jung on the stairs as Jung smokes and cries. He looks at Xiao Wu and gestures toward his head and heart, saying something in Korean that moves Xiao Wu to tears. The moment marks a rare bridge across their distance, with Xiao Wu seeking reassurance he cannot name.

Jung prepares Korean instant noodles for Xiao Wu and leaves a handwritten note in Korean that Xiao Wu carefully preserves. The small act becomes a tangible token of Jung's care, even as the two drift in their communication. Xiao Wu's ritual of collecting Jung's memorabilia continues in the background.

Xiao Wu severs a piece of his own clothing that bears Jung's tears from the night before and keeps it as a keepsake. The gesture blends affection with a haunting desire to keep Jung close. The act underscores how memory and longing have become tangible possessions.

He makes orange juice and buys ice cream—flavors Jung once bought from a street vendor—and leaves them outside Jung's room, hoping for a sign of return. The gesture is a quiet, hopeful ritual that keeps the possibility of Jung's presence alive. The household routines now revolve around waiting and small, hopeful acts.

One day the house is found tidy and the bed made; Jung's personal space has been cleared and he has left, leaving Xiao Wu to wander the empty rooms. The absence is abrupt and unexplained, intensifying Xiao Wu's sense of loss. He is left with the notebook and the memory that won't fade.

With Jung gone, Xiao Wu clings to the clock, manually nudging its hands back to 4:30 am each night. He sits beneath the clock, clutching the notebook and memory of Jung, attempting to will him back into the present. The ritual reframes time as a measure of longing rather than days passing.

Xiao Wu imagines Jung's possible return in small, childlike fantasies, like a flashlight beam crossing the window or a breath of warmth that never fully arrives. The longing settles into a haunting stillness where hope and absence blur together. The film preserves a mood of unresolved potential rather than clear answers.

In the film's ending, Xiao Wu closes some windows and even paints a coat of black over them, signaling a decision to confront emptiness and keep living in the half-lit spaces of the house. The closing credits leave the audience with questions about Jung's fate and Xiao Wu's future. The delicate, unsettled tone lingers, emphasizing loneliness and longing.