In the smoke of the Anti-Japanese War, Gu Yichen's map, Su Yao's medicine box, and Cheng Lie's rifle were the hardest armors in Yuntai Mountain. They protected the people in the darkness of the mines, and exploded munitions in the firelight of the warehouse. The roses and wild chrysanthemums on the plaster were the spring secretly planted in the flames of war.
After the smoke cleared, sunflowers bloomed on the hillsides of Chongqing, and the library settled in a bungalow in Shanghai. The letters across the mountains and rivers contained flower seeds, sugar paintings and unfinished stories. It turns out that victory is never the end—those bonds forged in the flames of war, those yearnings for 'stable days', will be like the roots of wild chrysanthemums, taking root deeper in peacetime and growing longer than war.
