The first time Lin Yanzhi heard the "language of wood" was when he was repairing a dressing table from the Republic of China.
Dark red blood oozed from the huanghuali wood drawer. As soon as his fingertips were stained with varnish, he heard the old wood sighing - like the embroiderer who died in childbirth saying "pain". Since then, he has been guarding the old shop in the west of the city, using a bamboo knife to pick out old insect-eaten paper, and using pine smoke to mend the damaged parts. He has become a restorer (shou) who can talk to old things.
The day Shen Shiyan crashed into the shop, he was carrying the Leica camera left by Grandpa Tai.
The lens was covered with fog and could not capture a clear image. He held up the camera and smiled at Lin Yanzhi. The mole under his eyebrow bone looked like a fallen star: "I heard that you can understand the language of old things? Help me see if it contains the shadow of grandma?" He is a photographer who takes pictures of old times (attack). The lens is always pointed at old objects, but when he sees Lin Yanzhi repairing something in profile, the shutter is always half a beat slower.
He was repairing the ebony photo frame, and heard the photo frame crying for a half-torn old photo - it was Grandpa Shen Shiyan's thoughts that he had lost for most of his life;
He was repairing a silver pocket watch and felt that the watch core was wrapped with dark blue silk thread - it was the lotus buckle that Grandma Shen Shiyan had not finished embroidering when she fled;
He repaired the gramophone of the Republic of China and heard that there was a Pingju opera hidden in the vinyl record - "Yin Yulan" that had not been sung by two generations.
Shen Shiyan always squatted aside and watched, and the camera lens moved from the old things to Lin Yanzhi's hands: "When you repair things, your fingertips are softer than the spring breeze."
The tips of Lin Yanzhi's ears are red, but he will secretly eat his baked sweet-scented osmanthus cake, and will hand him a copper bell when he takes pictures of an old mirror: "The mirror spirit is afraid of noise, and the ringing of the bell can soothe the soul."
Old things hide unsaid words: the embroidery is stopped at the last stitch, waiting for someone to return home; the clock is stuck at three o'clock, waiting for the tea to cool; the magnolia seeds are buried in the soil, waiting for the flowers to bloom.
And they hide their unspoken emotions: he carved a lotus bookmark with a red rosewood branch and secretly stuffed it into his tool box; he pressed the photos he took on his repair desk, the fragrance of ink mixed with the sweetness of osmanthus.
"Shen Shiyan," Lin Yanzhi touched the newly sprouted magnolia seeds with soil on his fingertips, "The old things said that the person they were waiting for has arrived."
Shen Shiyan clicked the shutter button to capture the shadows of him and the buds: "Then let's wait for them to bloom, wait for the results, and wait for all the regrets to grow into sweetness."
——Listen, the old things are talking.
Say "what is lost will be found", say "what is waiting will be caught", say "when I met you, even time became weak".
(The cool and introverted restorer of old objects was attacked by a sunny and enthusiastic old photographer)
Intention: All waiting has its destination