The Last Rain Flower Stone

"The Last Rain Flower Stone" In an old house in Nanjing, a box of forgotten rain flower stones hides my father's lifelong silent confession. When Shen Qing was sorting out his father's belongings, he found a rusty iron box. There are seventeen rain flower stones inside, each with tiny writings engraved on the back - recording her joy when she picked up the first stone at the age of five, her stubbornness in arguing with her father at the age of sixteen, and the three times she looked back at the station when she left home at the age of twenty-two. She didn't know that her father, a painter who was not good at words, would go to Yuhuatai every year on her birthday, just to find a stone that could represent the memory of that year. Stomach cancer took away his father and the "I love you" that he never said. It wasn't until these stones started to speak that Shen Qing understood: The deepest love is often hidden in the hardest silence. And when she finally learned her father's language, the stream in Yuhuatai had been flowing for thirty-eight years. This is a story about misunderstanding and reconciliation, telling how we miss each other in the love that is not good at expressing, and how to find the deep love treasured by silence in the evidence left by time.