Lin Jianwei discovered a strange mailbox in her mother's old house - on the 15th of every month, it would automatically spit out a letter from the future.
The letter writer Shen Xubai predicted all the details of her life: a rain, a cat, a heartbeat. The prophecy reaches its sweetest peak when the wedding invitation arrives in the eleventh letter: the groom is he and the bride is she.
But at this moment, they only met for the third time.
As the prophecies come true one by one, Lin Jianwei falls into a tender trap until she discovers two fatal loopholes: the scar on Shen Xubai's left wrist does not match the "juvenile accident" described in the letter; and the day he disappears every year is the day another girl disappeared seven years ago.
The twelfth letter arrived as scheduled. She opened it tremblingly, looking forward to reading the words "I do."
There is only one line of words on the paper:
"Don't marry the me of tomorrow. The me of today has been dead for seven years."
The postmark date shows it was sent seven years later.
Purpose: Core Purpose
When love becomes a script with a known ending, can we still love each other freely?
Three levels of intention
1. The Paradox of Memory
If forgetting protects those we love, does remembering become selfish?
2. Prisoners of time
What we fight throughout our lives is not the vagaries of fate, but the cold laws of logic itself.
3. Love's rebellion
In the countdown that is destined to be lost, every moment becomes the gentlest rebellion against fate.
One sentence summary
This is a love that knows it is heading for ruins but still lights a bonfire - because the temperature of the ashes is also the last light before the stars fall.