The afternoon sun shines through the tall glass windows of the archives, casting mottled light and shadow on the dusty wooden reading table. Shao Jia held a pair of tweezers as thin as ox hair between his fingertips and was carefully peeling off a fragment of a scroll from the Republic of China period. The yellowed paper pages were as brittle as dried leaves, and a new line could crack with a little force. His movements were so slow that they were almost stagnant. The fine sweat from his forehead slid down his jawline and dripped on the dark cashmere sweater, leaving a small dark trace.
