A heavy rainstorm.
Zheng Su Nian entered the clock restoration department, holding an umbrella. He had biked over, and half of his body was wet. Zheng Jin quickly handed him a towel to dry his hair. "This rain, you'll catch a cold again if you're not careful."
"What’s the big deal?" Shao Hua stood under the eaves of the glazed tiles, looking up at the sky. "Spring rain, spring rain is as precious as oil. If it’s falling on you, it's a blessing."
Zheng Jin patted Shao Hua's back. "Then why don't you go outside and soak in it?"
"I won't, I'm too old for that. With my high cholesterol, I can’t handle too much oil."
Zheng Su Nian had recently started his internship, now working alongside Shao Hua. He finally understood where Shao Xue got her sharp tongue from.
He placed the thermos Shao Hua had forgotten on his desk and opened the umbrella again, heading out.
The apricot tree Dou Si Yuan had planted stubbornly pushed a branch over the wall. "Peach blossoms bloom in threes, apricots in fours," and by that count, this tree should have been blooming and bearing fruit. Dou Si Yuan stood under the eaves, watching the rain, and greeted Zheng Su Nian warmly when he saw him at the door.
"Brother Si Yuan, will this tree bear fruit this year?"
"It will." Dou Si Yuan gazed at the branches with the pride of a parent. "Look, over there, it's already sprouting green buds."
Zheng Su Nian nodded and walked further inside, reaching the painting restoration group.
Luo Huai Jin had retired, and now Zheng Su Nian was learning under the most experienced member of the team, Shi Xian Qing. Shi wasn't classically trained but had followed the traditional master-apprentice path. Thirty years ago, he had been an artsy youth. In the restoration room, Shi kept an old accordion, and when the young apprentices were covered in dust from their painting copies, he'd play a moving tune of "Katyusha."
In his forties, his eyes still sparkled with passion—an interesting man, indeed.
"Su Nian," he called out one day, stopping Zheng Su Nian. "Does your school give out Olympic tickets?"
At the start of this spring, the entire country had begun eagerly preparing for the Olympics, even the normally aloof restoration masters at the institute had taken a trip to the Bird's Nest and Water Cube. Zheng Su Nian thought about the notices from his class and vaguely recalled, "I think they might, but they haven't said what kind of tickets yet."
"Lucky to be a student." Shi's face was full of envy. "I really want tickets to the cycling event, but I bet they’re hard to get."
Zheng Su Nian tried to console him. "Cycling races only last a few hours, and those athletes zip past you in a flash. You’d only catch a glimpse. Might as well stay home with the air conditioning and watch the live stream—much more comfortable."
Shi Xian Qing slapped his thigh. "You’ve got a point."
Zheng Su Nian, now in his third year, hadn't officially joined the team yet, so his tasks were limited. Shi Xian Qing, noticing how idle he was, sent him outside to sketch. Spring had only just begun, and the courtyard was bare—no flowers, no grass. His brush barely touched the paper before the wind dried the paint, and he spent days like a monk in meditation, staring at the withered branches.
On the ninth day, he suddenly noticed a forsythia bush with a budding flower. The tightly wrapped bud was just waiting for a signal to burst open like fireworks.
Zheng Su Nian stood there, watching. A senior who had come out to fetch something asked, "What are you doing?"
He replied, "This flower is about to bloom."
The senior joined him. "Not bad, the first flower of the year."
A sister, who had just finished her work and was sketching the palace buildings, also came over to take a look.
Soon, a whole group gathered, standing and waiting for the flower to bloom.
Shi Xian Qing, noticing the room had emptied, came out and saw the scene. His temper flared.
"What are you all doing? You’ll scare that flower into never blooming! Get back to work!"
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