He pledged his entire youth in exchange for a one-way ticket to escape the ruins of life. Chen Yan's world is paved with broken porcelain pieces - on the New Year's Eve when his parents divorced, the ground was in a mess, reflecting the afterimage of fireworks. Between cheap alcohol and silent dinners, he learned to use his first-grade grades as bricks to build a future for himself that would not collapse on the ruins.
Her world is made of precise scales. Zhang Yuqi's life is a perfect answer sheet that has been proofread repeatedly: milk with a constant temperature, a smile with a precise angle, and notes that cannot be deviated from the music score. But in those coffee-spoon-measured minutes, light was seeping through invisible gaps—on the back of the poem, she wrote about unclaimed loneliness.
When I was eighteen years old, two parallel lines that would never intersect were accidentally deflected in the dusty light beam of the university library. He saw the cracks in her perfect appearance that were the same as his own; she saw the savage growth of tenacity behind his silence that he had never dared to possess.
When broken porcelain meets flawless crystal, do they reflect each other or cut each other? "Both Sides of the Broken Mirror" is a story about wounds and healing: What we are looking for throughout our lives may not be a craftsman who can repair the broken parts, but the person who can point to your cracks and say - "Look, the light coming in here is beautiful."
