A steady rhythm
The travel clock, now running again, was placed in a prominent and stable position on Lu Shixu's workbench. Its crisp ticking sound, like a gentle new member, quietly blended into the inherent symphony of time within "Shixu," adding a unique rhythm from the past yet pointing towards the future to this space.
The days in midsummer are long and bright. The sunlight is no longer as scorching as before, but has become mellow, casting clear patches of light on the shop floor through the window frames, moving slowly like a silent sundial.
Lu Shixu and Lin Zhiyi's lives also seemed to enter a new and deeper rhythm.
After finishing the painstakingly crafted manuscript, Lin Zhiyi didn't immediately jump into the next demanding project. Instead, she took on some relatively sporadic and flexible editing work, allowing her more autonomy in managing her time. This enabled her to more thoroughly immerse herself in the rhythm of "time," no longer just a busy visitor making occasional stops, but truly becoming a part of this sea of time.
Sometimes she would bring her laptop and sit in her usual spot by the window, processing emails or reading manuscripts, spending the entire afternoon there. Other times, she would do nothing but randomly pick out one of the old books Lu Shixu had collected, those related to time and crafts, and slowly flip through it. She even began to learn to identify some basic watchmaking tools, so that when he needed them, she could accurately hand him that "T-wrench" or that "ultra-fine ballpoint pen."
Lu Shixu remained immersed in his world of restoration. But his work ethic seemed to have undergone some subtle changes. He no longer kept himself constantly on edge, but instead learned to stop naturally after working for an hour or two. Sometimes he would get up to pour water, sometimes he would walk to the window to look at the street scene, and sometimes he would simply turn his head to look at Lin Zhiyi, who was quietly reading or working beside him.
His gaze would linger on her for a moment, silent, simply watching. He would see the slight upturn of her lips when she read an interesting passage, or the gentle furrowing of her brow when she encountered a difficult problem. Then, he would lower his head again and continue his work, his taut shoulders unconsciously relaxing a little.
It was an invisible exchange of energy. Her presence, like a stable background sound, soothed the mental exhaustion he experienced from intense focus; and the calm aura he exuded when immersed in his passion, in turn, nourished her, making her feel an unprecedented sense of peace and focus in this space.
That afternoon, Lin Zhiyi was proofreading an article about an ancient water-powered astronomical clock tower when she encountered several rather difficult technical terms. She subconsciously looked up, intending to ask Lu Shixu for clarification.
But she saw that he had stopped what he was doing and was quietly looking at her with gentle eyes, as if he had been waiting for a moment.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly.
Lin Zhiyi turned the computer screen towards him, pointing to the technical terms: "I don't quite understand these terms, but they seem to be related to watchmaking mechanics?"
Lu Shixu leaned closer, examined it carefully, and then began to explain the principles and connections to her in the simplest and most understandable language. He didn't show off his profound knowledge; he simply described things calmly, occasionally gesturing with his fingers to resemble gears in the air. His explanations, like his repair of a clock, were clear, precise, and full of patience.
Lin Zhiyi suddenly realized and lowered her head to take notes seriously.
After answering her questions, Lu Shixu did not immediately return to his work. His gaze fell on the notebook she had opened beside her, which contained not only the notes she had just made, but also her casual jottings down as she read, with smooth lines and neat handwriting.
“Your handwriting,” he suddenly said, “is very beautiful.”
Lin Zhiyi was taken aback, looked up at him, and blushed slightly. She hadn't expected him to notice this.
"Really? I just wrote it down randomly." She was a little embarrassed.
"Hmm." Lu Shixu responded, but his gaze remained fixed on the handwriting. After a while, he slowly said, "Like a steady metronome."
Lin Zhiyi's heart fluttered slightly at his unique and apt metaphor. In his eyes, even the words she casually wrote could be connected with time and rhythm.
She watched him pick up his tools again, lower his head, and continue "talking" to the tiny gear. Then she looked at the words in her notebook that he called "a steady metronome," and her heart was filled with a rich sense of peace.
They are like two instruments with different parts, each playing a unique melody—he is the deep and steady cello, she is the clear and melodious flute. Seemingly different, they have found the most harmonious harmony in this concert hall called "Time Sequence," together composing a peaceful and affectionate movement called "Life."
Outside the window, there is the hustle and bustle of the world and the passage of time.
Inside the window, a tranquil rhythm flows, a moment that is eternal, a space they built together.
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