Chapter Forty-Five
In the neighboring room, the sizzling sound of hard dishes hitting hot oil could be heard, and a rich aroma drifted from one end to the other. The high-end Chinese-style main courtyard, which exuded sophistication in every corner, seemed to suddenly sink into the warmth of everyday life, instantly erasing any sense of distance.
Old Mr. Ji’s nostalgia for the past was genuine, his passion for timepieces was genuine, and his expectations for craftsmanship were equally genuine.
Shen Qianzhan had never felt such a profound understanding of the elderly man before her as she did in that moment.
When she worked on projects, she poured her heart and soul into them, giving her all with sincerity and dedication. But often, projects were like commodities. To meet market demands, cater to audience preferences, and satisfy investors’ tastes, she had to make compromises she couldn’t avoid.
Shen Qianzhan’s only advantage might be that she now had a voice, more people listened to her, and she had the authority to choose projects she liked, wanted, and loved among the sea of commercial themes.
Timepiece restoration was different.
It carried the weight of history. Whether it was the jade and gemstones on the surface or the springs and gears inside, each bore the marks of its lifetime. Restoring these histories, reviving those moments, was an intricate and monumental task.
If not for passion, who could endure the tedious and solitary work of restoration?
Even though the documentary on the restoration of the Mufan Clock had long faded from public memory, Shen Qianzhan still remembered the scene where Ji Qingzhen carried a thermal flask to a breakfast shop in the alley to buy soy milk before cycling all the way to the restoration institute.
On the frost and dew-covered tile walls of the early morning, he moved a chair to sit under the corridor, finished his soy milk, and changed into his work clothes in the warmth of the rising sun before entering the room to restore timepieces.
The dust-covered national treasure was slowly cleared of its grime, brushstroke by brushstroke. Every knot and fastener was carefully dismantled, numbered, and stored. The process of cleaning and restoring the clock face was a task that stretched on day after day, year after year, with no end in sight.
Every morning, in different seasons and weather, he would pass through the alley punctually, transforming the clock’s heart—the movement—from rust-covered to clean and new, constantly replenishing missing parts, repairing the mechanism, and restoring its vitality.
From beginning to end, timepiece restoration had only one goal—to return to the track of time.
Pure and clear.
“I remember the first time I came to you, you asked me how much I knew about timepiece restoration. In TV dramas, there’s a conflict every episode and an event every three episodes, but the challenges in timepiece restoration often take a long time to resolve. At your pace, I figured my project would end up becoming a second documentary on timepiece restoration, so you told me to change topics and consider something more practical.” Shen Qianzhan still remembered the look in Old Mr. Ji’s eyes as he adjusted his glasses and scrutinized her, as if she were just a charlatan seeking attention out of curiosity.
Ji Qingzhen clearly remembered it too. He smiled faintly, his lips pressed together, adopting the same attitude of ignoring things he didn’t want to acknowledge as Ji Qinghe.
“I didn’t mean anything else by it,” Shen Qianzhan said with a humble smile. “This conversation with you has made me realize how shallow my understanding still is in areas outside my expertise. I’ll have to learn more from Mr. Ji when I have the chance. To be honest, before coming here, I’d been thinking about how to answer that question in a way that sounded professional and profound, to make you see me in a new light.”She pursed her lips, smiled lightly, her eyes sparkling with scattered light, mottled like a starry river: "Looking at it now, my level of thinking still hasn't passed. Some questions don't need to be answered with words; action is the best answer. One of the difficulties in scriptwriting is the conflict between practical issues and the fixed structure of the series, which you once questioned. I won't choose to avoid this current problem."
"Coming here today is also to make a statement. I will do my best to make 'Time' the best it can be, not betraying the craftsmanship of the old masters, not pandering to ratings, not mythologizing the practical significance of clock restoration, but steadily filming a good series."
Ji Qingzhen's earlier impression of Shen Qianzhan wasn't particularly favorable.
Though she was polite and well-mannered, her objectives were too clear, and she was highly aggressive.
The first time Ji Qinghe mentioned Shen Qianzhan was during a video conference with Meng Qiongzhi and several other executives. Ji Qingzhen, as an observer, listened as his grandson used official business to pursue personal interests in a matter-of-fact tone. That meeting ultimately approved the investment as a special case.
The second time he heard Ji Qinghe mention Shen Qianzhan was on the night he had just returned from abroad. While Ms. Meng was delicately enjoying barbecue, he mentioned that Doctor Fei was recently in Beijing, hinting that it would be a good time for a check-up. As the conversation deepened, he casually brought up that the reason Doctor Fei was in Beijing was to perform bypass surgery for Shen Qianzhan's grandfather.
The flaws in Ji Qinghe's roundabout tactics were too obvious. Ms. Meng's curiosity was piqued, and she immediately showed great interest in Shen Qianzhan, suggesting they meet when the opportunity arose.
At that moment, Ji Qingzhen sensed something.
Wasn't this kind of roundabout groundwork to gain attention exactly what he had done in his younger days?
So that night, Old Master Ji, using insomnia as an excuse, sent Meng Wangzhou to warm a pot of osmanthus wine and shared a drink with Ji Qinghe under the window.
In his mind, Shen Qianzhan was a commercialized person, very clear about her interests and objectives. This was also why he hadn't paid much attention when Ji Lin had hidden Shen Qianzhan's concept proposal.
But when that proposal was handed to him by Ji Qinghe, he became more interested in the "Time" project.
Once he set aside his subjective biases, Old Master Ji found both the proposal and the person behind it much more agreeable. He toyed with a tea pet, his eyes glowing with a warm, yellowish light under the room's lamps: "It's good that you have the heart. My greatest hope for you young people is to take care of your health and actively realize your life's value. You and Qinghe don't need to feel pressured; just do your best." At this point, the old man's thoughts drifted to another matter: "I heard from Wangzhou that he owes you a favor?"
On the night Ji Qingzhen and Meng Qiongzhi arrived in Beijing, that rascal Meng Wangzhou, wearing a face full of immense grievance, complained to Meng Qiongzhi. He claimed that Ji Qinghe had kicked him out of the courtyard house, leaving him penniless and wandering under a bridge for nearly half a month.
Ji Qinghe and Meng Wangzhou grew up together, similar in age—one steady and composed, the other lively and mischievous—and they often clashed. Every time they had a cold war or fought, Ms. Meng would step in to mediate.
She was well-practiced, first asking Meng Wangzhou, who had come to complain, what had happened.Meng Wangzhou hemmed and hawed, saying, "I just invited a friend to a networking event, and there were quite a few outstanding young men there... That friend of mine is quite popular, but as soon as he arrived, he pulled a long face. Where does that leave my dignity?" The burly man looked utterly pitiful: "They're just business partners, not girlfriend and boyfriend. Every time they meet, it's like fire and water, and now he's even trying to control who she socializes with..."
When Meng Qiongzhi pressed for details and heard it was Shen Qianzhan, she first slapped the back of Meng Wangzhou's neck, laughing and scolding, "Don't you think you're being foolish?"
Naturally, the matter ended there.
Not only did Meng Wangzhou fail to find anyone to uphold justice after complaining, but he also got hit. For the past few days, he had been finding ways to antagonize Ji Qinghe.
"I have quite a few antique clocks in my collection, and I don't mind lending some to you as props," Old Master Ji poured the cooled tea over the tea pet, making a final decision: "When you have some free time, come to Xi'an with Qinghe in person."
As for borrowing antique clocks as props... discussing it face-to-face made her feel rather presumptuous.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, she cleared her throat and was about to say something when she looked up and saw Old Master Ji stand up with his hands behind his back. She quickly rose as well.
From the kitchen next door, a rich aroma wafted through.
When Shen Qianzhan glanced outside, the lights were bright, and night had already fallen.
As the room quieted down, Meng Wangzhou's boisterous voice from next door gradually became clearer.
Old Master Ji, with a kindly expression, smiled and said, "Come, let's taste Qinghe's grandmother's cooking." He walked ahead of Shen Qianzhan by two steps, hands still behind his back: "I heard from Qinghe that you hosted him for New Year's Eve at your home?" Though phrased as a question, Old Master Ji's tone made it clear he was certain.
"The housekeeper said that after he returned, he couldn't stop talking about the papaya and snow frog stew. Is your family from Guangzhou?"
"No," Shen Qianzhan replied earnestly. "My ancestral home is in Jiangsu. My aunt married into a family in Guangzhou and knows quite a few Cantonese dishes."
Old Master Ji nodded and asked, "Are you an only child?"
"Yes."
Old Master Ji stroked his stubble: "Working alone in Beijing?"
"Yes," Shen Qianzhan smiled. "But after working for so long, my friends and professional circle are all settled in Beijing. It doesn't feel like I'm fighting alone."
Old Master Ji lifted the curtain and led her inside.
The kitchen was spacious, and unlike the large traditional stove Shen Qianzhan had imagined, the interior and appliances were highly modern, resembling a meticulously designed showroom with a minimalist, light luxury aesthetic.
The woman busy at the stove turned at the sound, her expression warm: "You must be Qianzhan, right? We're almost done here; dinner will be ready soon." Then she chided Ji Qingzhen: "Why bring the young lady into the kitchen? The fumes are heavy, don't let her get smoked."
Amid the hum of the range hood, Ji Qinghe, who had been leaning against the counter supervising Meng Wangzhou washing vegetables, turned to look. Through a sliding door, his gaze held unmistakable surprise.
Soon, he picked up a cup and walked out.
When their eyes met, Ji Qinghe naturally took her wrist and led her to the dining room: "Finished talking?"
Before Shen Qianzhan could answer, she noticed a four-panel screen in the dining room, clearly from the same series as those in Time Hall, perfectly separating the dining area from the sideboard.
Ji Qinghe handed her his coffee cup: "Hold this for me."
Shen Qianzhan, unsuspecting, had just taken the cup handle when Ji Qinghe guided her around the screen and cornered her against the cabinet.
The cabinet reached just to Shen Qianzhan's waist, leaving her with no room to retreat or escape.After a brief moment of confusion, Shen Qianzhan raised an eyebrow slightly, glancing at the distance between them. "Do you really need to stand this close to talk?"
Ji Qinghe leaned in, taking a light sniff. "Just checking to see if you've been tainted by the old man's stuffiness."
He was close, his long legs slightly bent as he leaned against her, turning his face to smell her hair and neck.
The main room had incense burning.
The old man favored sandalwood and agarwood. Having stayed there for a while, she had picked up a faint woody scent—unlike the aggressiveness of perfume, the lingering incense was cooler, as light as smoke, almost imperceptible unless one paid close attention.
Ji Qinghe had always been sensitive to scents, especially the subtle fragrance on her, which was unlike any other.
Amused by his own behavior, which felt almost like that of an addict, he was about to let go of her wine opener when she raised an eyebrow, tilting her chin slightly to reveal a slender stretch of her neck. "I can't be tainted by incense, Mr. Ji. Why not see if I've been corrupted by you instead?"
She moved closer, her calf brushing against his, lifting the tip of her shoe to nudge his ankle.
Today, she wore a pair of dark green high heels, the tips adorned with fluffy, pom-pom-like balls. The friction was nothing short of tantalizing.
Behind the screen, busy figures moved about. Shen Qianzhan smiled, placing her hands around his neck. "I think I'm already ruined."
She set her coffee cup down on the sideboard, watching as he narrowed his eyes with a calculating look. Seizing the initiative, she gave his firm, toned buttock a sharp pinch. "If you keep taking advantage, I won’t stop at just this."
Shen Qianzhan tried to maintain an innocent expression, though a hint of mischief was unmistakable. But unlike the reaction she had imagined—where the scoundrel would recoil in shock, treating her like a menace—Ji Qinghe’s expression didn’t change at all. Instead, he glanced at her with a faint, amused smile and asked, "Is that all?"
Annoyed by his mockery, Shen Qianzhan’s eyebrow twitched. She glanced downward, her tone dripping with malice. "Well then, should I pinch the front instead?"
Author's Note: Enjoy the story and live happily.
Thank you to the little angels who voted for me or nourished me with nutrient solutions between 2020-03-25 18:10:20 and 2020-03-27 20:13:45~
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Thank you all very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!
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