从祖辈闯关东、回山东，到父亲一家搬下山、再为我上学搬到县城，“故乡”一次次被搬离，又一次次被重新命名。后来我去北京上学，说“我要去北京”；假期临近，又对舍友说“我要回山东”。“去北京—回山东”，这个“回”究竟指向哪里？何以为家？我试图回望祖辈与父辈的记忆，却总觉得它们并不真切——我来得太晚了。当我开始寻找、询问、谈论，他们只能一遍遍讲述，而我只能一遍遍慢慢领会。《晚归寻人不遇》沿着迁徙、家族时间与个人成长的断裂展开：当记忆无法抵达，家便不再是一个地点，而是一种持续寻觅的状态。

“Hometown” has been moved away from, and renamed, again and again—from my ancestors’ migration, to my father’s family leaving the mountain village, to our relocation to the county town so I could attend school. Later, when I studied in Beijing, I would tell my parents, “I’m going to Beijing,” yet before holidays I would tell my roommates, “I’m going back to Shandong.” In “going to Beijing—going back to Shandong,” what does “back” actually point to? What makes a home? When I try to look back toward my ancestors’ and my father’s memories, they never feel fully reachable—as if I arrived too late. When I begin to search, to ask, to speak of memory, they can only repeat their stories, and I can only learn them slowly, again and again. A Delayed Advent, A Vain Search unfolds along migration, fractured family time, and personal coming-of-age: when memory cannot be reached, “home” becomes less a place than an ongoing condition of searching.