Illustration: Liu Xiangya/GT

Dear You, a film made on a budget of just about 14 million yuan ($2.05 million), featuring a cast of first-time amateur actors and delivered almost entirely in a local Chaoshan dialect, has unexpectedly become a phenomenon in Chinese cinema. As of May 21, the film has grossed more than 760 million yuan at the box office, earned an impressive 9.1 rating on Douban, and captivated audiences not only in the Chinese mainland, but also across China's Taiwan region, Southeast Asia and Chinese communities worldwide. Many viewers have been moved to tears. One emotional comment read: "Even though I don't understand the Chaoshan dialect, I cried like a child."
But what has made this film a sensation? The answer may lie in those yellowed qiaopi - a unique form of personal mail - sent home by overseas Chinese, in the tender whispers of "Though vast oceans separate us, my thoughts are with you, and distance fades away," and in the deep-rooted patriotism that has spanned generations of the Chinese people. This "love letter to the homeland and to overseas Chinese" is dedicated not only to the grandmother in the film but also to every wanderer who yearns for home and those at home who eagerly awaits their return. The quiet patriotism that permeates the film seeps into the fabric of everyday life, like spring rain gently nourishing the land.

A corner of longing, a homeland, and the roots that hold it all together. The story begins in an old house in Chaoshan region in South China's Guangdong Province. There, the elderly Grandma Shurou has spent her life guarding a weathered wooden door and a box of yellowed overseas qiaopi. Her husband, Musheng, worked far away in Siam (Thailand), and through his letters and remittances, Shurou sustained the family at home. But in truth, Musheng had long since passed away in a foreign land. Nanzhi, a Chaoshan woman living in Thailand, deeply grateful for Musheng's kindness while he was alive, secretly sent remittances in his name for 18 years - a gentle lie to protect Shurou's unwavering wait. Back in the Chaoshan homeland, Shurou endured hardship and never gave up, embodying the profound meaning of "home" as the very cornerstone of life. The moon-worshiping ceremony, the ritual of Kung Fu tea, the pickled olives - these scenes carved into the bones of the Chaoshan people are the longing for home felt by countless wanderers, and they also form the bedrock of Chinese cultural identity.

Qiaopi is not just a letter home - it is a page of national history. From 1864 to 1911, nearly 2.94 million people from Chaoshan crossed the seas to make a living in Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia, and Myanmar. Like Musheng, they cleared wasteland, labored in mines, tapped rubber, and sold goods on foreign streets. They bore the harshest burdens themselves, yet sent home every last coin they could save. What kept them going was an unyielding determination to build a better life for their families back home. Their motherland remained an enduring spiritual beacon - a light that reached across rivers and mountains. In those turbulent and destitute years, four or five out of every 10 people in Chaoshan relied on these qiaopi to survive. Dear You thus records not merely a solitary fate, but the collective memory of struggle and mutual aid shared by millions of overseas Chinese since modern times.

A shared language and common ancestry are not only a source of nostalgia but also a bond of national identity. Rich in Chaoshan dialect and cultural traditions, this film has struck a deep chord among compatriots on both sides of the Taiwan Straits, while also awakening a profound sense of belonging and cultural identity in countless overseas Chinese hearts. The word "Grandma," spoken in the local accent, is a living testament to the common roots shared by people on both sides of the Straits. The phrase "One must be compassionate and righteous" reflects the enduring cultural and ethnic spirit that unites them. This heartwarming film, which does not directly reflect the topic of cross-Straits relations, somehow made some "pro-independence forces" in Taiwan to call it "united front work." This proves that it is the simplest kinship and familiar accents that awakened the Taiwan residents' natural identification with Chinese culture. The many similarities in language and customs between the Chaoshan region and Taiwan offer irrefutable proof that people on both sides belong to one family - and that their blood ties have never been broken.

This film has moved audiences across different countries and regions and different generations, drawing them into a shared current of emotion, because it carries within it the deepest spiritual code of the Chinese nation. Time and place may change, but the deep love for one's homeland, the responsibility to family, and the unyielding commitment to a promise - the eternal spiritual foundations etched into the blood of every Chinese - remain constant. Shurou's waiting, Nanzhi's protection, Musheng's resilience - three ordinary lives intertwined. No epic deeds, yet they shine with the quiet radiance of humanity. Their perseverance, kindness, and sense of responsibility speak to the core values of every Chinese heart. And when countless such acts of kindness come together, they forge an unbreakable sense of identity and cohesion - the very strength that has carried the Chinese nation through hardships and propelled it forward for thousands of years.

As qiaopi faded into the pages of history, the kapok flowers continue to blossom year after year. Dear You pays a tribute across time: to the perseverance and sacrifice of our forebears, to the sincerity and responsibility of overseas Chinese, and to a patriotism that never fades. The tears audiences shed are not only for the joys and sorrows of the characters, but also for the tender emotions and collective memories that run like an ancient river through the blood of every Chinese - and for this national resonance that traverses mountains and seas, and speaks across centuries.