There was a thin layer of dust on Lao Linji's mixer. When Lin Xiaoman wiped away the mildew stains on the 1997 tape, a word "Sorry" suddenly overflowed from the noise - that was the voice of the late folk singer Shen Zhaochuan, stuck in the unfinished recording twenty years ago.
She guarded the old shed left by her grandfather and used the tuning cone to compete with time; he was trapped in the broken sound waves, with unsent letters and unfinished choruses.
When the sigh in the noise of the current turned into "Can you record one more sentence for me?", The two people trapped in regret actually heard the resonance frequency of the heartbeat in the clack of the tape.
"It turns out that it's not just the sound that spans twenty years."
Intention: Because we understand each other, we can have each other.