In 1924, Shen Sujun married into the Zhou family of Shengze. She refused to accept her fate. She embroidered her name with a needle, and together with Chinese women of an entire era, they competed for an inch of space on the tip of the needle.
One hundred years later, her great-granddaughter Su Jianqiu discovered the needle among her mother's belongings. The needle is rusty, but the thread is still there.
From a needle to a city, from a woman to an era, from the canal to the Seine, and then to every city that refuses to settle for the ordinary - this story is not about silk, it is about: some things are still there even after being burned to ashes.
