Hidden in the sound of sewing machines in Samsung Woolen Textile Factory is the hottest 1997 between him and her. He is a young worker who silently accumulates courage in the workshop, and she is a car stopper with braided braids - from secretly observing her side face while winding, to holding the love letter with wrinkles in the palm of her hand, to the sweat-soaked reply at the factory gate, their love is like cotton yarn in the workshop, silent but getting tighter and tighter.
They whispered under the poplar tree on the concrete roadside, shared donkey meat and burned it under the oil lamp in the canteen. On the market day of pay day, her eyes staring at the red velvet flower were brighter than a light bulb. But the parting came unexpectedly, and he clutched the white scarf she knitted and embarked on his way home. When the train started, her figure standing on the platform became his heartache for the next twenty years.
In order to find her, he walked in the cold winter and broke the soles of his shoes, and ate hard steamed buns in a strange county; in order to forget her, he regarded the girl who looked like her as a shadow, but when he hugged her, he remembered the scent of soap locust in her hair. More than twenty years have passed, and the glass cabinets of the handicraft store are filled with countless exquisite ornaments, but there is no place for the appointment at the factory that did not happen that year - some love has not been expressed, and it has become a permanent scar in the heart; some people have not kept it, and it has become a lifelong concern.
