Su Qin thought she would never see Lu Yan again in this life. After breaking up three years ago, she was transferred to a new district and even changed her mobile phone number. It was like cutting off a piece of rusty pipe and welding a new joint. But fate is like a pipeline, there are always bends to turn. On the first day she was transferred back to the old city, she bumped into Lu Yan squatting on the ground wiping water stains in the leaking pump room - his hair was longer and darker, and the look in his eyes when he looked up at her was exactly the same as the last night three years ago.
They are partners in the maintenance of anti-corrosion tape for fire pipelines. This job is unpopular, but it is demanding: if the wrapping is too tight, the pipe will expand and contract due to heat and cold, and it will deform and crack; if it is too loose, water vapor will get in and rust through the pipe wall. Su Qin was good at her craftsmanship, and no one in the company could wrap the pipes evenly than her, but when her hands touched old pipes, she would think of the afternoon when Lu Yan taught her to leave elbow room for expansion. Three years ago, they endured countless emergency repairs side by side. Three years later, they passed each other in the same pump room. The handwriting on the handover book was like two parallel lines.
She thought the separation was because he left without saying goodbye, and he didn't know she had changed her number. Misunderstandings are like water vapor in the cracks, invisible, but corroding the words that have not been spoken year by year.
