The first thing she learned in her life was not to draw, but to be hungry. Her father died in the mines, her mother remarried and disappeared, and her grandparents fed her with corn mush. She studied at the Chengdu Academy of Fine Arts from a mountain village on a scholarship, but found that what was taught here was obedience, not art. She skipped classes and created crazily in the basement. After graduation, she settled into a leaky abandoned tool room in the eastern suburbs and was so poor that she could only eat three steamed buns a day. She thought she could go on like this forever.
Until the fall of 2001, she met a man with a camera backstage at an underground exhibition. He said that there was a "force field of relationships" in her works. He helped her pay her dues, brought her rice and oil, and dragged her to the hospital when she had a fever. He was the first to see her and the first to leave. After he left, her world began to collapse. The exhibition caused controversy, and the partners withdrew the works. One rainy night, she was soaked like an abandoned wild cat and fell into a small flower shop she had never been to before. The woman in the store didn't ask who she was, she just turned around and walked into the kitchen and made two brown sugar pot helmets.
An angry girl who never dares to show weakness, a warm shop full of flowers. Can a bowl of brown sugar pot helmet catch all the anger of a girl?
Concept: Anger is the armor of a low-class girl. She relied on it to fight her way out of the siege, but she was almost trapped to death by it. Some people saw her talent and helped her polish it; some saw her fragility and lit a fire for her to cook. True growth is not about giving up anger, but learning to be caught while staying sharp.