Xiao Yu is accustomed to following his older brother and stumbles upon an unexpected scene one afternoon. This raises several questions: does he feel lost, confused, angry, surprised? One of the strengths of the screenplay is to let the audience draw their own conclusions about Xiao Yu's feelings.

Another intriguing aspect involves the father. I wonder to what extent he is aware or pretends to be ignorant. This ambiguity adds additional tension to the narrative.

While the focus primarily rests on the younger brother, the short film subtly hints at Feng's perspective as well. I was left questioning whether he doesn't feel secure enough to fully embrace his life, if he's waiting for the right moment to reveal himself, or if he simply values maintaining his privacy. It is evident that he cares for his brother while giving him the space he needs when he sees that Xiao Yu is drifting away from him. This decision may stem from the same reason he creates a boundary between his home life and love life—to preserve his personal space. Feng loves freely, yet simultaneously keeps it a secret.

Ultimately, "One Afternoon" brilliantly demonstrates that not everything needs to be explicitly stated for the story to convey its message. The unsaid and the silences contribute to the narrative power of the short film.

It's delightful to see Huang Chun Chih again, whom I previously enjoyed in "HIStory3: Make Our Days Count." His natural interaction with Lin You Quan and Ping Chen Wu is remarkable and brings authenticity to the entire performance.