The sunshine at seven o'clock in the morning, with the smell of freshly made soy milk, slanted on the floor-to-ceiling windows of Critical Studio, illuminating the light cyan jade pendant on Fu Lin's ring finger. The jade pendant was dug out from under the sycamore tree in the backyard of the studio when Xiaotang was three years old. At that time, it was still covered with wet mud. Now it has been polished smooth and moist. When it sticks to the skin, it always carries a warmth slightly higher than the body temperature - just like the little girl yawning in his arms at the moment.
