While cleaning up the old house left by her grandmother, architect Su Wan discovered a yellowed love letter in the drawer of the old desk. The edge of the letter paper is frayed and the handwriting is clear. It was a letter Lu Shiyan wrote to her when he was eighteen years old but never sent it.
After not seeing each other for seven years, she was no longer the little girl who followed him and blushed even when she spoke, but an independent woman who had established a firm foothold in the reinforced concrete city; he was no longer the high-spirited young man, but had become a well-known restorer of ancient books in the industry, with a quiet detachment.
An accidental project cooperation made the two meet unexpectedly. The moonlight on the old window sill, the chirping of cicadas in summer, unspoken confessions, youthful and frivolous misunderstandings, all the past buried by time, all resurface in intersections.
The tit-for-tat and tacit cooperation in the workplace, the deliberate avoidance and unbearable attention in private, made them gradually see clearly: time has never really diluted love, but only turned regret into a more mellow concern.
But adult love is never just about "like". Past misunderstandings, real pressure, and their own concerns have all become the gap between the two.
When the wind blows over the old window sill again that night, can they let go of their obsessions, resolve their misunderstandings, and turn the regrets of the past into the perfection of this moment?
