In the 21st year of the Republic of China, Shanghai was full of neon lights.
Lu Xingzhou, an architect who returned from studying abroad, met the gentle and tough scholarly girl Wen Manyan at a grand charity banquet.
He drew an architectural sketch for her, ran his fingertips through her hair, and promised to build her a white bungalow on the bank of the Huangpu River where she could see the rise and fall of the tide.
That was their best time, but also the beginning of their nightmare.
Mountains and rivers are shattered, and wars are burning across Jiuzhou.
As the war approached, he had to put away the drawings and put on military uniform.
On that stormy morning, he hugged her tightly and said in a hoarse voice, "Man Yan, when the weather calms down, I will definitely come back to marry you."
After leaving, there was no news for eight years.
The first autumn after the victory of the Anti-Japanese War, Shiliupu Pier.
Wen Manyan stood in the crowd, holding the yellowed sketch in his hand, his eyes empty.
The whistle blew, and she finally saw the familiar yet unfamiliar figure.
He came back alive, but with a broken leg, and the starlight in his eyes turned into irreversible vicissitudes.
"Lu Xingzhou..." She called him tremblingly, tears streaming down her face.
He pushed aside the crowd, walked toward her step by step, knelt down on one knee, and pressed his forehead against her palm: "I'm back. The wind in the past eight years has been so cold. Fortunately, I finally waited for you."
Waiting for the wind, waiting for a reunion. When the mountains and rivers are fine, I will wait for your return.
