In the last look at the Shanghai pier, banker Gu Qingyuan tied an old scarf around his wife Shen Jingyi's neck, put his pocket watch into his daughter's hand, and turned around to walk into the thick fog of the occupied area.
Trapped on an isolated island, he cut the family portrait into three parts in the red light of the darkroom, protecting the family's last dignity amidst the financial ruins. She carried a wooden box full of letters in her arms and headed west, recording the broken mountains and rivers with a brush during her wanderings. A Yangtze River separates two kinds of perseverance: he walks on thin ice while mediating in conspiracy, and she records the unyielding soul in wandering.
During the eight-year war, the money orders he sent passed through the blockade, and the sketches she drew were hidden in anonymous envelopes. The daughter grew up with the ticking sound of pocket watches, and began to describe "father's heartbeat" and "mother's mountains and rivers" with immature brushstrokes. When the news of victory finally came, he sorted out the last account and she closed the full diary - in their own way, they completed the deepest protection of their home and country.
This is the story of Gu Qingyuan and Shen Jingyi: the financial game on the battlefield without gunpowder, the persistence of culture on the road of exile, and the longest letter home written in eight years.
Good-looking[smile][smile][smile]