synchronic trajectory
On a clear day after the snow, the air was crisp and refreshing, like a spring. The sunlight poured down without obstruction, illuminating the "Time Sequence" store with a bright and warm glow. The wooden cases and metal parts of the antique clocks gleamed with a gentle and serene luster under the light.
The brief stroll in the snow seemed to bring Lu Shixu no extra burden, but rather injected a touch of fresh vitality into the stagnant winter day. He sat at his workbench, his expression relaxed, a look rarely seen in recent days, as he began to restore an antique-style Italian angel statue clock. The tuning fork held by the angel needed to be readjusted to restore its original clear chiming sound.
Lin Zhiyi was hunched over her desk by the window, proofreading a new manuscript about folk paper-cutting art. Sunlight danced across the open pages and the computer screen, softly outlining her focused profile.
The shop was quiet, with only the scratching of pens on paper, the subtle crunching of tools against metal, and the constant ticking sound that filled the room as background noise.
However, beneath this tranquility, a wondrous "synchronicity" is quietly taking place.
When Lin Zhiyi encountered a question about the symbolism of traditional patterns, she paused her writing, frowning slightly in thought. Almost simultaneously, Lu Shixu also stopped what he was doing, needing to find a magnifying glass at a specific angle. He looked up, his gaze unconsciously falling in her direction, just in time to catch her deep in thought.
He didn't ask a question, but simply looked at her quietly for two seconds, as if he could sense the brief pause in her thoughts through her slightly furrowed brows. Then, he looked away and continued his work, only a very faint smile unconsciously curving his lips.
After a while, Lu Shixu needed to prepare a special adhesive to fix the tiny base of the tuning fork. He got up to find the ingredients on the back shelf, and in the process, his sleeve accidentally knocked over a small box of spare screws on the edge of the workbench. The screws scattered on the floor, making a soft but clear clattering sound.
Upon hearing the commotion, Lin Zhiyi, who was reviewing a manuscript, stood up almost without thinking. Instead of immediately helping him pick them up, she quickly walked to Lu Shixu's side, her gaze sweeping over him to make sure he wasn't startled or lost his balance from the unexpected accident. Seeing that he looked normal, only slightly helplessly at the scattered screws on the ground, she breathed a sigh of relief. She then naturally bent down and helped him pick up the loose screws one by one, putting them back in the box.
The whole process was smooth and seamless, without a single question like "Are you alright?" or "Let me help you." All the concern and assistance occurred in silent actions and eye contact.
They are like two precision instruments operating independently yet tightly connected by an invisible bond. Without deliberate communication, they can sense the subtle fluctuations and needs within each other's "systems." A brief pause in one person will trigger the other's simultaneous attention; a minor mishap in one person will prompt the other to offer immediate assistance.
This "synchronicity" is not accidental, but rather a resonance of inner rhythms formed after long-term close coexistence and high attention to each other. Their attention seems to have their own "peripheral perception" areas, with a part always gently enveloping the other, monitoring any subtle "abnormalities" or "needs" in the other's world.
When Lin Zhiyi finally solved the pattern problem, her brows relaxed, and she let out a soft breath, Lu Shixu seemed to sense it as well, and his movements as he adjusted the tuning fork became even smoother and more determined.
As Lu Shixu successfully fixed the tuning fork and gently plucked it with his fingertips, hearing the clear, resonant hum return, Lin Zhiyi had just finished proofreading a paragraph and closed the manuscript with satisfaction.
Almost simultaneously, they looked up from their respective focused worlds, their eyes meeting unexpectedly in the air.
They didn't say a word, just smiled at each other.
Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the fine dust particles dancing in the air and reflecting the unspoken understanding and peace in each other's eyes.
Their respective paths remain clear: one points to the research and dissemination of texts, while the other points to the restoration and preservation of time.
But on a deeper level, their trajectories have already intertwined, rising and falling in sync, forming a warm and solid synchronic path called "us".
On this path, every small setback and step forward has a dual meaning and a perceived gentleness.
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