In the capital city at the end of Guangxu's reign, the cold wind carried the roar of Western machinery and crushed the last gold-lettered signboard of "Chen Ji Construction". Twenty-year-old Chen Ziqian stood in front of his father's hospital bed, listening to the sound of the bank's leather boots crushing the threshold for debt collection. In his hand, there was only a yellowed scroll of "A Hundred Birds Pay Attendance to the Phoenix" - it was the blueprint of the divine bell that his great-grandfather spent all his efforts to draw, which can make hundreds of birds sing in unison and the phoenix cry blood. It is also the last dignity of the Chen family.
In order to repay the huge debt and let his father on the sickbed see the rebirth of "Chen Ji", Chen Ziqian accepted the death order to recreate "A Hundred Birds Pay Attention to the Phoenix" for the birthday party of the British minister's wife. With a one-month time limit, how easy is it to revive the drawings that have been dusted for hundreds of years? The smelting method of cold-forged cupronickel has long been lost. The singing of birds requires masters who can distinguish the subtle sounds, and the wings of the phoenix require carvers who can split stone and break gold.
He broke into the rotten tile alley and persuaded the grumpy "Ghost Shou Zhang" to relight the furnace; he opened the "Wan Laitang" and asked Li Wensheng, who could distinguish ten thousand sounds, to adjust the syringe; he also found the miniature sculptor Su Wenyuan, who was regarded as "deviant", and used Western techniques to reshape the bones of the phoenix. Three craftsmen with different personalities, a carving knife, a furnace, and a pair of wonderful ears, in the symphony of copper scraps and sparks, fight against the crushing time, the impact of foreign goods, and the deep-rooted doubts about "the death of old craftsmanship."
