The rain in Nancheng is always too sticky to melt away.
During the rainy season in 1975, Su Yuqing dug out a yellowed book of poems bound in thread from an old box in the attic of his old house. There is no signature on the title page, only a small Weihua flower is painted, the brushwork is clear and beautiful, but there is a dark mark on the petals, like a dried tear stain.
He recognized this word, it belonged to his grandma Su Ciwei.
Adults all say that this name is the heaviest weight in Nancheng. One end weighs the Su family's century-old foundation, and the other end is tied to the life and death of the sixteen families. But Su Yuqing always felt that these two words were very light, as light as grandma's unspoken sigh when she occasionally looked out the window.
Until he met the taciturn man in the bookstore and heard the words "Lin Yushu" pop out of his mouth, his grandma's emerald brooch that never left her body suddenly shattered into light in his memory.
It turns out that some names are never symbols of a person. It is the struggle of five generations in the times, the love and hate hidden in the gaps between old buildings, and the road between two old houses that has not been completed for half a century.
The beginning of all stories begins in that silent reading room in 1927.
"Su Ciwei, do you still remember me?"
Concept: A growth story during the Republic of China