It has been three years since my grandma passed away. Lin Nanqiao gradually got over the pain and lived an ordinary and ordinary life.
There's only one thing wrong - she has the same dream every year on her birthday and on the anniversary of her grandmother's death. The dream was grandma's old kitchen. There was a pot of noodles sitting on the stove. Grandma turned her back to her to choose vegetables and said: Qiao Qiao, it's cold, don't always eat cold food.
Three years later, every scene is perfect. This year she woke up from her dream and gradually realized that this might be more than just an ordinary dream.
As an editor, Lin Nanqiao knows better than anyone else: every frame is the same, not a memory, but a signal. She followed it up with storyboards and recordings, but she opened a door that she shouldn't have pushed open - behind the refrigerator cabinet of the convenience store downstairs was the City God's office; burning paper was a remittance, visiting graves was a radio station, and waiting in line for decades to entrust a dream; and the soul of the dead secretly entering a dream was a serious crime that reduced merit, punished with hard labor, and in severe cases, the soul was thrown away.
Why does an old lady who has followed the rules all her life come to see her in her dream at the risk of losing her soul twice a year?
Why does it say in the book of life and death that grandma was reincarnated three years ago?
What kind of business does the incomplete seal covered in the corner of the seven dreams lead to?
Missing is a dream that refuses to wake up. And saying goodbye is to finish the dream while awake.
Concept: Warmth