Cui Yinghe is a cultural relic restorer at Tengzhou Museum. She has a talent that cannot be replaced by instruments - "listening to wood". Knock on the wood and you can hear the growth rings, insect infestations, and secrets that have been hidden for hundreds of years. But she can't touch people, and her hypertactile sensitivity makes her always tense in crowds. Only wood can relax her.
Mo Yanchi is a returned architectural designer who is responsible for developing cultural tourism projects in her hometown. He has a strange disease: he can never remember other people's faces. He identified everyone by smell, voice, and gait, but he only remembered the smell of pine wood mixed with jujube flowers on her body.
The first time they met, she was trapped in a fourteen-meter-high old jujube tree, and he used structural mechanics to direct her to save herself. Her first words were not thanks, but "You made a miscalculation."
In a tit-for-tat confrontation, the two of them accidentally bit together a half-remnant tenon that they had held for twenty years each during the dispute - his grandfather said that he could use this to find the girl who guarded the ancient trees and the craftsman's house. The person she was waiting for was actually him.
Under a century-old jujube tree are buried intelligence fragments from the Anti-Japanese War, a thatched house guards the final suicide note of a railway guerrilla traffic officer, and at the bottom of a tiny mountain lake lies a Mohist water conservancy agency from 2,400 years ago. What they have to contend with is not only the pressure of capital, but also opponents lurking in the dark who also have control over the Mohist heritage.
He doesn't remember her by her face, and she doesn't heal herself by medicine. Two people with imperfections fit perfectly together using the force of mortise and tenon.
Intention: intention
Two people with their own shortcomings do not need anyone to save the other. Just like tenons and tenons, each maintains its own shape, but can fit together tightly.
Real protection is not to hold things in your hands, but to speak clearly for those woods and stones that have been silent for two thousand and four hundred years.
One generation keeps it, another generation waits. Some things don't need to be remembered, they just need to be kept.