I have repaired countless incomplete ancient scrolls, but I couldn't repair them well. They were broken year after year after he turned around and left.
That year, there was continuous autumn rain in the mountains. I was holding a stack of old and rare books, and I ran into a piece of cool clothes on the slippery stone steps.
The ink was blurred and the book was damaged. I panicked, but I met a pair of cold and distant eyes.
Shen Qinghe, a traveling scholar who came from afar, was withdrawn and aloof, and was the most unapproachable person in the academy.
In an accident, he broke the precious book that my husband regarded as his life. Feeling guilty, he took the initiative to stay with me to repair it.
Accompanying each other day and night in the corridor, the fragrance of ink mixed with the refreshing scent of soap locust, a silent tacit understanding flows through the fingertips.
He clumsily shielded me from the wind and carefully handed me warm water, hiding all his tenderness and protection without saying a word.
I thought that the companionship in this cold mountain courtyard could last until the end of the years.
Little did he know that he had already set a return date and would travel far away when the autumn wind blew.
He was afraid of delaying my future and dragging down my weak body; I didn't dare to keep him, because I was afraid that my deep love would be lost, and I was afraid that parting would be too painful.
The last intact years were shattered in that afternoon when the autumn wind blew the fallen leaves.
On the day he left, the old inkstone was still wet and the ink marks were still there, but I could no longer wait for the person who accompanied me to study ink and replenish books.
Purpose: Through the inheritance of ancient book restoration skills, we show our persistence in traditional culture and our tenacity to find warmth in the incomplete years.