In the deep alleys with green tiles and white walls in Suzhou, documentary director Lin Shutong and ancient book restorer Zhou Yanbai became friends because of a spring rain. The silhouette of him repairing "Plum Blossoms" in her lens is a foreshadowing of an old acquaintance on the Internet forum six years ago; the sweet-scented osmanthus black tea he handed over contains the bitter memory of losing his father when he was young. The two followed the unsent love letters of the Republic of China to visit the century old man, and protected the century-old academy during the siege of commercial capital. In the snow foam blown by the tea spoon and the tears under the ultraviolet lamp, they could see the cracks in each other's souls.
Zhou Yanbai used gold foil to repair Shutong's broken ancestral jade bracelet, just as she used the lens to stitch together his broken family past. When the family letters that had been dusty for twenty years in the red sandalwood box were revealed, the "Granddaughter-in-law's Trees" on the yellowed pages overlapped with Neruda's poems on the ginkgo leaves, and the newly dyed quicksand paper floated in the book drying area by the Suzhou River - those flaws that had been eroded by time eventually became wormholes that nourished deep feelings.
Intention: Not to hide the cracks, just to remember where the light shines in