An abandoned winery swallowed up by century-old vines. A door sealed with vines. A rusty iron key.
Garden designer Shen Xi took over the renovation project of a century-old winery three months after her fiancé Gu Lin passed away in a car accident. The manor has been abandoned for more than seventy years and is completely occupied by a huge grapevine. All the vines stubbornly grow in the same direction - the south, the direction of the sun, and the direction of love.
Deep in the wine cellar, behind a door sealed by vines, she discovered a diary written in 1910. The owner of the diary is Su Nian, the first hostess of the winery. She used meticulous and restrained brushstrokes to record the never-declared relationship with a young winemaker named Jiang Lin - he came from the ferry, broke two fingers, brewed a vat of wine called "Nian", and then went to Longmen by the Yellow River to graft a grape on the frozen soil that could live for a hundred years. Before he left, he left a letter: "Teng is still alive. Wait for me."
She has been waiting for him all her life. He guarded it all his life. The vines finished all the unfinished words for them.
When Shen Xi deciphered the diary, she discovered that project investor Jiang Yu - a descendant of Su Nian and Jiang Lin - had been looking for the same answer. She also discovered that the grape plant on the balcony left by her fiancé Gu Lin had three words engraved on the bottom of the flowerpot: Tochuan Garden.
The pulse of a century-old vine, twenty-four times a minute, like a baby's breath. They never stop growing and they never stop waiting. And those seemingly broken fates have never really been broken.
