Bai Shen has been polishing stone inkstones in his ancestral bluestone workshop for twenty-six years, and the wounds on his fingertips are denser than the moss on the old street. The secret of the ancient inkstone lies in strength: if it is heavy, the surface of the inkstone will be rigid and will not store ink; if it is light, the lines will be messy and there will be no hidden edges. He thought he would live with stones for the rest of his life, until his old school friend knocked on the door - Lin Yanqiu, a junior sister who left without saying goodbye due to poor family background, now comes to repair a "Songkeng Old Inkstone" with the pretense of an antique dealer. Bai Shen knew as soon as she touched it that it was clearly a copy of his inkstone she had made when she was a child. Even the wrong cloud patterns were the same. He wanted to ask her why she left that year, but she pointed to the leaky wall of the workshop and said, "The stone has absorbed moisture and turned white." The dry and wet workshop contains an unspoken secret love, and the inkstone surface that is too strong cannot smooth out the old marks. Who would have thought that this practice would actually produce half of the fragment in the cracked ice inkstone, and the love poem on the back of the fragment that he did not dare to hand out when he was sixteen years old. A square stone inkstone can inherit the writings and ink of the world, and the deep feelings are hidden in the years of grinding the inkstone. But young people are reserved and timid. Will the result be years of being far away from each other, or will one day be able to see the echo of the heart?
