Amid the misty rain of Changmen in Suzhou stands an antique restoration shop called Zhihuan Studio.
Its owner, Jiang Zhongwen, is recognized throughout Jiangnan as a master of kintsugi. Porcelain smashed to powder, jade snapped into pieces, wood rotted beyond recognition: in his hands, all regain their former grace.
No one knows he also has eyes that can see lingering obsessions.
Hidden inside a silver hairpin with winding floral patterns is a revolutionary youth’s confession, delayed by half a lifetime. Locked inside a pipa with snapped strings is the homesickness of a kunqu opera star, carried all his life. Inside a chipped military canteen is a promise an old soldier kept for half a century.
With kintsugi, he mends the cracks in objects, and helps countless spirits and regrets trapped in time find peace.
Everyone respects and thanks him, yet no one knows that this restorer, who has helped so many move on, has been stuck in the same place for more than a decade.
He keeps close to him half of a Hetian jade pendant, broken into three pieces. He has used every bit of his masterful skill, yet still cannot repair it.
It was the token of his love with Su Wanqing, the guilt he has carried for half his life, the obsession he dares not touch, and the one ordeal he cannot overcome.
He can mend every broken object in the world, but not the crack in his own heart.
Only when the two halves of the jade are reunited and the truth, delayed by more than a decade, comes to light does he finally understand the meaning of kintsugi:
The best restoration does not erase the cracks. It accepts regret, letting longing and time bloom into flowers within them.
