Shen Tingxi took over the restoration project of an old bungalow from the 1930s.
The house was in a state of disrepair, but it had a deserted but beautifully skeletal backyard. She found a stack of letters wrapped in oil paper in the cracks of the pavilion covered with vines.
The letter paper is yellowed, the handwriting is clear, and the signature is "Zhou Muzhi, Autumn 1931."
The letter was written to a girl named "Aying". Between the lines, there is a deep feeling that a young architect cannot express in words.
As a professional habit, Shen Tingxi began to reply to the letter - as a restorer, reporting the progress of the project to the architect from a century ago, serving as a work log that traveled through time and space.
She didn't know where these letters would be delivered.
Until one day, she casually wrote at the end of the letter: "Mr. Zhou, half of the wisteria you planted has withered this year. I will try to save it."
The next week, she received a brand new piece of sketch paper buried under an old brick.
On the paper are wisteria care illustrations carefully drawn with a pen. The handwriting is in modern simplified Chinese characters, sharp and beautiful:
"Try this. Also, I am Zhou Muzhi's great-grandson. Also, your handwriting is very beautiful. - Zhou Yanqing"
Shen Tingxi: "...?"
That talented designer Zhou Yanqing, who is well-known in the industry, aloof and said to be cold and difficult to work with?
How did he come across these letters? ?
What's even more outrageous is that since then, her "time and space mailbox" has started to receive frequent "return gifts":
A box of stomach-warming tea bags for her chronic stomach disease, a stack of out-of-print architectural maps that she had been looking for for a long time, and a sketch of her profile immersed in drawing, with the words "rest with head raised, cervical vertebrae tight" written on the back.
There was no signature, but she knew who it was.
It wasn't until the project acceptance day that the man whom I had only seen in financial magazines and industry summit forums came to the old house in person.
The spring rain was pouring, and he was standing under the newly restored wisteria flower stand holding a black umbrella, petals falling on his shoulders. The gaze behind the gold-rimmed glasses accurately locked onto her, who was holding a stack of drawings and standing in the corridor.
"Shen Tingxi." He read her name, his voice moister than the spring rain. "I read your forty-seven letters and studied all the repair sketches you drew. I know that you like mortise and tenon joints and hate steel bars. You always stay up late because of a bad stomach. You are afraid of thunderstorms but like to listen to the sound of rain."
He walked closer step by step, leaning towards her with his umbrella, blocking the rain from the sky.
"Now, I'm here."
"Excuse me, am I qualified-"
"Graduate from your great-grandfather's mailbox and apply to be your first reader in reality?"
Concept: True love can transcend all dimensions - whether it is time, space, or the walls we build for ourselves. When two lonely souls recognize each other in misplaced time and space, the heartbeat itself defeats all the laws of physics. "
——Discuss modern people's fear and desire for intimate relationships, and the courage to still choose to believe in love under "impossible" conditions.