An aged father known to everyone as Old Liu, [Zhu Xu], and his younger, mentally challenged son Liu Erming, [Jiang Wu], run a busy, old-school bathhouse in a winding Beijing neighborhood. This is not just a place to wash; it’s a small world where a dozen rooms hum with daily rituals and small dramas. The bathhouse offers a mix of services—haircuts, massages, shaves, fire cupping, even old-style pedicures—yet its real product is connection. Retired Beijingers, locals, and a motley crew gather here to pass the hours playing Chinese chess, watching cricket fights, or simply sharing space. Old Liu wears many hats at once: manager, fixer of petty squabbles, and a kind of marriage counselor whose advice is offered with a steady, patient tone. The atmosphere is warm, humorous, and gently bittersweet, a delicate balance of work and companionship that holds the place together.
Among the regulars, one man hums O Sole Mio in the shower, only to lose the tune when he steps out in public—until Erming provides a step-by-step, healing moment with a clever hose shower. Another patron, Mr. Zhang, finds himself in a sticky patch of marriage trouble after a naked chase of a thief; Old Liu helps bring about a reconciliation by arranging a quiet search to locate his wife within the bathhouse itself. The small victories and small sorrows that thread through these evenings are stitched together by the duo’s routines. After the bathhouse closes, Old Liu and Erming keep going with a daily jog around the neighborhood, then test their endurance by a playful breath-holding competition in water, a ritual that blends affection with a kind of stubborn resilience. Even the most routine chores—like cleaning up the place—become moments of playful companionship, where the two men behave like children, turning labor into a shared game.
The rhythm of the place shifts when Old Liu’s elder son, Liu Daming, [Pu Cunxin], returns unexpectedly from Shenzhen. Daming left years earlier to seek his fortune and arrives as a successful businessman, with a postcard in his pocket—an illustration of their father lying in bed that he initially believes signals his father’s death. The moment is a mix of relief and awkwardness, for the older son’s homecoming unsettles the old balance. The father-son dynamic is tested; Daming is torn between the call of his business life and the tenderness of a family left behind. The family threads are fragile, and the tension grows as Daming contemplates leaving again in three days to resume his life away from the bathhouse.
A day later, Erming accompanies Daming downtown to reserve a plane ticket, and in the course of the excursion the younger man strays, disappearing from sight. The search is frantic but ultimately fruitless, and when Daming returns, Old Liu lashes out with raw frustration, blaming his elder son for not safeguarding his vulnerable brother. The fear of losing Erming—already having lost one son once before—hangs heavy in the air. Yet the next morning brings a quiet relief: Erming has found his way home, and the family breathes again. The relief shifts into caution: Daming postpones his return to Shenzhen and stays another night, offering a tentative chance at reconciliation.
Rain pelts the city, and on a rooftop leak-fix session, Old Liu catches a chill that progresses into illness. In response, Daming offers to take over the bathhouse work, delaying his journey back and gradually embedding himself in the daily life he once left behind. He continues to join the evening jogs and—alongside Erming—finds a way to belong again. Then, one fateful night, Old Liu passes away peacefully while bathing, a stark moment that tests everyone’s capacity to carry on without him. Erming refuses to acknowledge the loss, insisting that the bathhouse keep its doors open at the usual hour, a testament to his stubborn refusal to surrender the rituals that defined their world.
In the wake of Old Liu’s death, Daming contemplates a drastic solution: taking Erming with him to Shenzhen or placing him in a mental hospital to escape the difficulties of care. The hospital stint is hard on Erming, who fights the attendants and longs for the familiar rhythm of the bathhouse. Ultimately, Daming returns with him to the baths, choosing to resume operations and keep the business—their shared sanctuary—alive for a time longer.
Meanwhile, the district is slated for demolition to make way for new commercial development. Removal crews begin to empty the space, and Erming fights to halt their sweep of the old furniture and memories, determined to preserve the place that has housed so many lives. After a brief struggle, he is gently guided toward accepting the reality of change, and the plan to move forward is set in motion.
The film closes with a poignant communal farewell. A circle of old customers gathers in the bathhouse one last time, carefully removing aging paintings and portraits from the walls as a gallery of the lives that passed through this place. Erming, with a voice thick with longing, returns to the familiar chorus of O Sole Mio, singing it as a final, nostalgic homage to the bathhouse that shaped their days. The scene lingers on the family’s and neighbors’ faces—grief, gratitude, and a quiet resolve—capturing the enduring power of place, memory, and kinship as they step into an uncertain future together.
