One in the morning.
Winter in a northern industrial city.
The biting wind carried the smell of rust and the acrid tang of coal cinders.
Yuan Su crawled out from beneath the chassis of a large truck, a black streak of grease across his face. The chilblains on his hands had split open, seeping blood.
"Still awake, Yuan? This truck isn't needed until tomorrow afternoon."
A worker passed by in a military overcoat and yawned.
"I've got a good rhythm going. I'll sleep when I'm done."
Yuan Su's voice was hoarse as he lowered his head and tightened a screw.
The worker shook his head, muttered, "You work too hard," and turned back toward the duty room.
Yuan Su kept going until he had checked the very last step of the repair.
He went to the sink and washed the grease off his face with cold water.
The icy water stung his wounds, but he seemed unable to feel the pain. He washed again and again until he was completely clean.
He dried his hands and took a carefully preserved magazine from his inner pocket-the latest issue of Wild Grass.
He had visited three newsstands before finding a copy.
The boy leaned against the truck's cold hood.
By the dim yellow light, he opened it to the first page.
"Rewind"-by Pu Yu.
His rough fingertips brushed lightly over the name, as though afraid of dirtying it.
She was the girl he would hold in his palms without daring to close his hands too tightly.
The piece was short. He had read every word countless times.
The phone in his pocket vibrated.
Its screen reflected the bloodshot lines in his eyes, along with the caller ID.
-the care home.
Yuan Su's heart sank, and he answered at once.
"Hello? Is this