The parasol tree on Wutong Street fell, but the time capsule two girls buried is still there. One became a physicist, the other a cultural relic restorer. When they were eighteen, they held hands in the snow, then parted amid their father’s angry shouts. Over the years that followed, they became indelible marks in each other’s lives, much like the antiques Yan Sui restores: the cracks never disappear, but light can shine through them.
