Have you ever lived into your thirties and suddenly realized you had never lived?
Have you ever looked out the window at three in the morning and couldn't remember who you were?
Have you ever waited for someone for so long that you forget what you are waiting for and only know that you are still waiting?
Until the day her mother was critically ill, she received a letter from her father thirty years ago——
Seven legacies, hidden in seven extreme places. Mohe in the polar night, Lop Nur in death, the sunken South China Sea, Medog in the rainforest, abandoned mining towns, weather stations in the clouds... And the last place without coordinates, called "White Land".
She thought she was looking for answers left by her father.
Along the way, too many people want to love her: financial upstarts send flowers every day, well-known writers publicly confess their love, documentary directors guard her silently, and her best friend who has been secretly in love for ten years only says "you deserve to be liked."
But she only remembered the wandering poet in a military coat.
She asked him: Who are you waiting for?
He said: Wait for someone who doesn't know whether he will come up or not.
After walking seven sections, she finally understood——
It's never anyone else you're waiting for. Be yourself.
A white ground is not a blank slate. It is the kind of land where everything is buried and will eventually grow out of itself.
——To all the women who feel that their lives are like a blank sheet of paper, but in fact they have just not sprouted yet.
Concept: How does a real woman sprout?