Zhou Chen, the 45-year-old president of an investment company, is recognized by the business community as a "precision clock" - he always controls every decision-making node accurately. Until 25-year-old intern Fang Wenwen burst into the conference room with a handmade antique clock model, this man who was always half a step ahead of others lost control of time for the first time.
"Mr. Zhou, your watch is 3 minutes and 17 seconds faster." Fang Wenwen's gentle reminder at the new employee training meeting caused an uproar in the audience. This clockmaker's daughter, who has an absolute sense of pitch, can hear the most subtle timing errors in the world. When Zhou Chen discovered that she had secretly repaired the mechanical failure of the company's century-old clock, two hearts worn by time began to resonate at the same frequency.
During the day, he is a strict boss and she is a cautious subordinate; when working overtime at midnight, the tea room becomes a secret space for sharing childhood stories. He taught her to see the time dimension in K-line charts, and she took him to listen to the heartbeat of an antique clock. When Zhou Chen's ex-wife suddenly returned to China to fight for control of the company, and when Fang Wenwen received the admission notice from the Swiss Watchmaking Institute, the two hands, which had always maintained a safe distance, finally reached the moment when they had to overlap.
"The difference between us is not 3 minutes and 17 seconds," Zhou Chen stopped her as she was about to board the plane on a rainy night. "It's all the missed gears in the first half of my life, and now they finally click." This work uses delicate brushwork to depict the lonely souls under the shell of urban elites, and explores the eternal propositions of restraint and impulse, rules and breaking boundaries in the modern workplace. When the perfect time manager meets the time perceiver who breaks the rules, who is the one who is really wound up by fate?