The Rusty Tin Box of Lin Xiaoman takes a chipped old tin box as its starting point, weaving together Lin Xiaoman's deliberately buried past and her sudden return home.
Before the age of eight, the pagoda tree blossoms at her family's old home in Nancheng were the sweetest backdrop to Lin Xiaoman's memories. Then a high fever wiped away most of her childhood. She left her hometown with her grandmother, and from then on, the city was separated from her by an unforgettable warning: "Forget what happened in Nancheng. Just forget it, and don't look back."
Through five years of quiet work as a librarian, the tin box stood motionless on her bedside table, like the last line of defense her grandmother had left behind. Then an old letter from Nancheng shattered the peace. It contained just one sentence: "The pagoda trees are blooming. You should come back and see them." The handwriting, the unsigned sender, the old pagoda tree toppled by a typhoon in her memories, the little boy who always drew crooked suns... All the fragments she had "forgotten" began to stir.
At last, Lin Xiaoman opened the tin box. Inside, along with the new letter, was an old, yellowed photograph. On the back, her grandmother had written, "Forget." But some bonds cut into your very bones will ultimately follow the fragrance of pagoda blossoms and guide you back to where it all began. This journey home is a search for lost memories, an attempt to uncover the past her grandmother refused to discuss, and a chance to piece together her whole self again. Perhaps the things she had "forgotten" were the very things she most needed to remember.
