I am a porcelain restorer, guarding the studio left by my master by the canal in Nancheng. Repair bowls, lamps, and anything that is broken every day. The only thing I don't believe is that the human heart can be repaired - my ex-husband said, "Please fix me." I told him: People are not porcelain. If they are broken, they will be broken.
Until a man came from Xuzhou.
His name was Zhou Yanshu, and he knocked on my door with half a blue and white bowl. The bottom of the bowl is engraved with my master's name: Yanzhi. And I have the other half hidden in my hand. On the bottom of the bowl is engraved: With my wife.
The moment the two bowls were put together, a secret that had been sealed for forty years began to emerge. I followed him to Xuzhou, where he held my wrist in the darkness of the Han Tomb; I went to Jingdezhen, where I dug out the letter that Master left for me under the locust tree.
The letter said: "I picked the boy Yanshu. He can accompany you."
The restoration of the firewood kiln failed three times. When he went to Anhui to look for paper, he was trapped in the mountainous area and lost contact. I stood alone in front of the kiln and said to the direction of the search and rescue team: If something happens to you, I will never forgive you.
He's back. The firewood kiln is completed.
Later, at the Intangible Cultural Heritage Exhibition in the Forbidden City, the two bowls shone with golden cracks under the light. Someone asked me: What is the most important thing about gold repair?
I said: admit your mistake. Only when you admit that you are broken can you begin to repair. The same goes for the human heart.
That evening, he gave me a porcelain ring made by himself under the old locust tree.
I waited for thirty-four years, and finally I waited for someone who made me believe that people's hearts can be repaired. Once they are repaired, they can no longer be separated.
