The rain in the 26th year of the Republic of China wetted the parasol trees in the French Concession and also wetted Li Huaizhi's way to the country.
The wind of 2025 blew through the pavilion in Nanhu Park and also blew down an old letter in Zhang Xingchao's hand.
Ninety years apart in time and space, a wrongly sent letter brought the scholar in a long gown and the urban social beast together.
He writes about peace in troubled times, he returns faith to old friends in prosperous times; he protects mountains and rivers with his small body, and he spends the rest of his life guarding fireworks.
The letter is tied with a red rope, and the ink is fragrant to express feelings. Although we are separated by a hundred years, our hearts are still close at hand.
Ah Chao, if there is an afterlife, I hope to be born in a peaceful year, meet you in the alley, have a cup of milk tea together, and see the lights of thousands of houses.
Huaizhi, at the end of time, I will guard this prosperous age for you and wait for you to make this appointment that spans a hundred years.
Intention: I will see thousands of lights with you at the end of time
