In the midsummer of 1999, amid the chirping of cicadas in the old town of Linjiang, three teenagers, Lin Wu, Xie Yin, and Shen Zhou, took a film of overlapping fates under the leaky eaves of an abandoned photo studio. Seventeen years later, the scratches on the film have become the weapons that tear apart all lives - in the clinic of psychiatrist Lin Wu, ginkgo leaves always fall at the same moment in late autumn, just like the dead leaf that Shen Zhou held in his palm before he died; in the duty recorder of criminal police captain Xie Yin, at 23:47 every rainy night, the cordon will tremble strangely in the surveillance screen, just like the confession letter that was blown away by the wind on the night of Shen's murder.
Shen Zhou died on a rainy night after the college entrance examination. An unsent wedding ring was forever stuck in the rust of the manhole cover. In the past ten years, Lin Wu used psychological therapy to suture the wounds of others, but could not heal the bleeding crack in his own memory; Xie Yin nailed himself in the criminal investigation files, but in the early morning of each case when the case was closed, he repeatedly wiped the gunshot wound under the collarbone that was left to save Lin Wu. When anonymous letters began to be sent to Shen Zhou's "posthumous works" - love letters with vivid handwriting, sketches of Lin Wu's profile, and even ginkgo leaf specimens from the crime scene, the dusty murder case was forced to restart.
The scalpel opened up not only the evidence bag, but also the secrets sealed by time: the wall clock in Xie Yin's office always stopped at the time of the murder, and his private diary contained the blind spot of surveillance on the day Shen Zhou was murdered; Lin Wu's diagnosis and treatment records showed that she was always subconsciously protecting a tampered memory of a rainy night. The most dazzling truth is that when the sender imitated Shen Zhou's handwriting, he unintentionally reproduced the tremor of Xie Yin's hand holding the gun - that silent guardian had long since become the "human evidence cabinet" in Shen Zhou's case.
When all the lies were revealed on the snowy night, Lin Wu finally saw the truth clearly on the back of the childhood film: the boy who carried her through the tunnel in the heavy rain was never the dead Shen Zhou. In Xie Yin's last unsent text message before his death, what was sealed in amber was not only the chirping of cicadas in 1999, but also the sentence "I actually..." That had been rusted for twenty years.
Concept: Memory is the murder weapon in unsolved cases, love is the evidence that never expires
