In the winter of 1983, Bai Jie, a female textile factory worker, was falsely accused of theft.
The evidence is overwhelming. She didn't defend herself, she just put a tear on the fingerprint that framed her.
From then on, she learned to weave a web of silence.
In the steamy workshop, she weaves the man's ambition, the undercurrent of the times, and the gaps in power into her life stitch by stitch. Late at night when food stamps are exchanged for nylon socks, early in the morning when the aluminum lunch box is condensed with lard, every fold she touches with her fingertips is a silent calculation...
