In Beijing’s Second Ring Road courtyard, with its shallow depth of field, Shen Qianzhan’s BMW was quite conspicuous.

She made a U-turn at the dashed line at the intersection. With the turn signal’s blinking prompts, the vehicle turned perfectly and stopped steadily in front of Time Hall.

Ji Qinghe had been waiting for a long time. Seeing her arrival, he imperceptibly curved the corners of his lips, stood up, and knocked on Shen Qianzhan’s car window.

The latter responded by showing her face.

Ji Qinghe asked: “Should I park or will you?”

Shen Qianzhan glanced at the parking space that seemed somewhat difficult to accommodate the car body. While still calculating how to park more elegantly, Ji Qinghe reached out to unlock the car door, pulled it open, and gestured to her: “Get out.”

He didn’t stand straight. One hand supporting the car door, the other resting on the car roof, he bent slightly, leaning in to look at her: “I’ll park the car.”

Shen Qianzhan went with the flow, grabbed her bag, and let him have the car.

Ji Qinghe usually lived a pampered life. Apart from timepieces, Shen Qianzhan had never seen him show fondness or interest in other things. But everything that came into his hands seemed like toys—he could always handle them with ease.

The BMW’s body was rather long. He estimated the distance from the front of the car and the angle for entering the space. With one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other controlling the gear, with just one maneuver, he elegantly squeezed Shen Qianzhan’s vehicle within the parking lines.

After parking, Ji Qinghe handed the car keys back to Shen Qianzhan and asked: “Was finding your car yesterday fairly smooth?”

If he hadn’t mentioned it, it would have been fine, but once he did, Shen Qianzhan’s expression immediately darkened like the bottom of a pot: “It only took about half an hour.”

Ji Qinghe smiled slightly and naturally took the rather weighty visiting gifts from her hands: “No traffic jams on the way over?”

“There was a jam at the last intersection for a while.” Shen Qianzhan put away her car keys, not noticing anything wrong with her hands feeling light, and politely made small talk: “How were Old Master Ji’s examination results?”

“Quite good.” Ji Qinghe pushed open the door and stepped aside to let her enter first: “If it weren’t for Ji Lin having a fever with no one to care for him, he and Ms. Meng would have wanted to stay in Beijing longer.” This explanation accounted for why the meeting had been arranged so hastily.

While speaking, Ji Qinghe had already led her through the main gate into the courtyard.

Unlike Time Hall’s somewhat plain decoration, this courtyard occupied at least twice the area of Time Hall.

Past the main gate, there was a screen wall directly ahead. The steps were thoughtfully arranged with several pots of green plants, and perhaps because of the New Year, delicate glass lanterns hung from the branches and vines. They looked somewhat out of place yet somewhat adorable.

Following her gaze, Ji Qinghe said: “On New Year’s Eve night, Su Zan got drunk in the latter half of the night and insisted that Meng Wanzhou accompany him to hang lanterns.”

Shen Qianzhan couldn’t hide her shock: “Su Zan’s drunken episodes are so unique?” That little rascal at most dared to ask her for lipstick to draw turtles when in front of her.

Ji Qinghe didn’t answer immediately. He led Shen Qianzhan through the hanging flower gate.

On both sides of the hanging flower gate were newly pasted New Year couplets, with tassels from two lanterns above swaying in the wind like silk.

Without Ji Qinghe’s explanation, Shen Qianzhan understood—when Su Zan was brought in, he probably saw the lanterns and was deeply impressed. After all, when people get drunk, there’s no reasoning with them.

Shen Qianzhan felt inexplicably guilty: “Su Zan caused you trouble.”

Ji Qinghe didn’t mind: “Meng Wanzhou coaxed him all night like he coaxes Ji Lin. I don’t have that patience.” He glanced sideways, looking at her meaningfully: “If it were someone else, that would be different.”

Shen Qianzhan was focused on watching the threshold beneath her feet and completely missed that this comment was directed at her.

As the sky darkened, lights came on in the courtyard.

The lamplight reflected the gradually thinning daylight, creating quite a bit of the bleakness of approaching dusk.

Shen Qianzhan’s “resentment toward the wealthy” was about to break out of its cocoon bit by bit in this seemingly endless courtyard.

Crossing the courtyard, the main house was just three steps away.

The main house door was half-open, with faint voices carrying through, tinged with some dialect that was hard to identify when listening casually. But that voice—the more Shen Qianzhan listened, the more familiar it sounded.

She had just started guessing that the people inside were Meng Wanzhou and Old Master Ji when, the next second, Meng Wanzhou poked his head out from behind the half-open door, saying with delight: “Producer Shen is here!”

He glanced at the visiting gifts Ji Qinghe was carrying and politely complained that Shen Qianzhan was treating herself like an outsider, bringing gifts for just coming over for a meal.

Shen Qianzhan smiled, finally realizing that her hands had felt light throughout the journey because Ji Qinghe had been carrying her gifts the entire way.

After changing shoes and entering the house, just as she rounded the screen, Shen Qianzhan saw Ji Qingzhen, Old Master Ji, sitting at a writing desk wielding his brush with bold strokes.

The moment she looked up, Old Master Ji also happened to glance over. Unlike their previous meetings in Xi’an, the old master smiled at her quite warmly, indicating she shouldn’t feel constrained.

He then put down his brush, came around from the writing desk, and sat behind the tea table.

A pot of hot tea was warming on the tea table, with the tea boat dry and faintly stained with water marks.

After Meng Wanzhou said he was going to bring tea snacks and left through the door, only Old Master Ji and Ji Qinghe remained in the room.

This setup made even Shen Qianzhan, who had seen many grand occasions, feel somewhat nervous.

She cleared her throat and spoke first: “Old Master Ji, it’s been a long time. I’m here to pay my respects today.” This opening was overly formal, drawing a sideways glance from Ji Qinghe.

He casually placed the tea strainer on the filter cup and handed her a cup of Tieguanyin, easing the atmosphere: “Ever since Bu Zhong Sui collaborated with Qiandeng, Grandpa has wanted to meet you.”

“Producer Shen’s reputation has long preceded her—no need to be so nervous.”

Ji Qingzhen seemed to find this scene amusing. He looked at Ji Qinghe teasingly and said: “I didn’t know your social graces had become so thoughtful.” He sipped his tea, lightly adjusted his glasses with the back of his hand, and turned to Shen Qianzhan: “It has indeed been a long time. After I arrived in Beijing, Qinghe told me about your collaboration.”

After saying this, he pondered for several seconds: “I’m old and content with enjoying life. I don’t have the energy to complete such a large project. Qinghe is interested and gets along well with you—you’re mutually beneficial for each other.”

In front of this distinguished and respected elder, Shen Qianzhan remained modest and restrained, not daring to be presumptuous in any way. Upon hearing this, she was full of flattery: “Yes, it’s truly a heaven-sent opportunity. President Ji is young and brilliantly talented. What’s even more rare is that we share interests and have the same goals, which makes me very confident about the ‘Time’ project. But the greatest regret is still not being able to invite Old Master Ji to participate in the project. This is not only a loss for me and ‘Time,’ but I believe it’s also a loss for timepiece enthusiasts everywhere.”

Ji Qinghe, who knew the complete truth, curved his lips and quietly watched her talk nonsense.

Once Shen Qianzhan adjusted her state and switched modes, her little mouth could chatter non-stop: “The collaboration between Bu Zhong Sui and ‘Time’ was both unexpected and reasonable. President Ji is young and distinguished, and his dedication to the craftsmanship ideals of timepiece restoration is something I can’t match. If it weren’t for President Jiang from Baixuan Film and Television’s introduction, I wouldn’t have been able to meet President Ji…”

Ji Qingzhen made a puzzled sound and looked at Ji Qinghe, who hadn’t spoken: “How is it that I heard Qinghe say you’ve known each other for a long time?”

Shen Qianzhan was dumbfounded.

She instinctively looked at Ji Qinghe, who was playing with his teacup, silently inquiring with her eyes: What kind of “known each other for a long time”? Why didn’t you coordinate our stories before meeting the parents?

Ji Qinghe rarely saw her with this kind of expression. After appreciating it for a while, he said unhurriedly: “We’ve known each other for a long time, but she didn’t know.”

He pressed one finger on the cup lid and gripped the teapot with his other hand, leaning slightly to refill Old Master Ji’s tea: “Just listen to what she says. Don’t keep asking questions and expose all my secrets.”

Ji Qingzhen stroked his stubble and smiled meaningfully: “It’s my fault again. Young lady, please continue.”

Only now did Shen Qianzhan realize that Ji Qinghe’s scheming nature was probably a family inheritance. Old Master Ji’s eyes and smile were as if he knew everything clearly, yet he pretended to know nothing at all. With his interruption, Shen Qianzhan’s earlier rainbow-flattery state disappeared entirely, her mind full of speculation about how much Old Master Ji actually knew.

Fortunately, midway through, Meng Wanzhou brought in some tea snacks, providing an interruption: “Producer Shen, try these—my old lady’s handiwork.”

Meng Wanzhou loved to boast and show off. From tea snacks, he talked about how Ms. Meng’s ancestors included imperial chefs who specialized in making snacks for the imperial kitchens. The topic took eighteen turns and eventually landed on “what a waste that my ancestors had so many talented and exceptional people, yet I, Meng Wanzhou, have only persisted in being completely useless.”

Shen Qianzhan deeply sympathized with Meng Wanzhou’s plight: “What’s precious about people is having something to persist in throughout life. You’re not having it easy either.”

With Meng Wanzhou present, the atmosphere became harmonious without needing deliberate management.

After three rounds of tea, Meng Wanzhou finally remembered he still needed to assist Ms. Meng, taking Ji Qinghe along to help as well.

Once the two left, the room emptied, leaving only Shen Qianzhan and Old Master Ji staring at each other.

Fortunately, before coming, Shen Qianzhan had prepared many questions to ask the old master. From timepiece restoration to several key life choices of Old Master Ji, they chatted all the way to the Mufan Clock without any awkward silences.

“The documentary about restoring the Mufan Clock was only a few short episodes, but the actual restoration took many years.” When talking about this national treasure-level timepiece, Old Master Ji couldn’t help but feel emotional: “The Mufan Clock was also the catalyst for the change in my relationship with Qiongzhi. During those years I was in Beijing, I lived right here. The entire meaning of life seemed to be restoring this timepiece, making it tick again.”

Old Master Ji glanced at her and said with a smile: “You can ask Qinghe about these things—he knows too. When the Mufan Clock was being restored, he even assisted me. His craftsmanship is excellent—blessed by his ancestors, he grasps things immediately. Later he spent two years at the Clock and Watch Gallery in the Beijing Museum. His grandmother didn’t want him to be bound to this craft forever, so she entrusted Bu Zhong Sui’s timepieces to him.”

Shen Qianzhan was somewhat surprised by this part of Ji Qinghe’s past: “President Ji spent two years at the Clock and Watch Gallery?”

“Qinghe knows timepieces like the back of his hand, whether ancient or modern, Chinese or foreign. He’s proficient in making and repairing watches—a natural talent for dealing with time.” Old Master Ji’s voice was deep and substantial: “Back then, Qinghe and Wanzhou both learned timepiece restoration from me. Wanzhou had neither interest nor talent, only learning superficially. Actually, what I could teach was just some watch repair techniques—nothing too profound. There are many watches I’ve never seen or repaired.”

“In your project work, you must have researched the origins of court timepieces. By the Qianlong period, the scale of Qing palace timepieces was already quite impressive. Timepieces made for collection had gold, pearls, and precious stones piled on without regard for cost. In terms of design, there were countless variations from Chinese architectural pavilions and towers to Western-style churches, plus automatic chiming and time-announcing mechanisms. When they broke, restoration became extremely difficult. He just loved it, was passionate about it, devoted himself wholeheartedly to perfecting the craft. The colleagues who worked with me on timepiece restoration thought highly of Qinghe and kept him for two years.”

Ji Qingzhen reminisced about the past, his face full of nostalgic expression: “You don’t understand him deeply enough to truly appreciate this. Qinghe is like me—when he loves something or someone, once he becomes passionate, it’s like being possessed.”