Shen Zhao was a rational architectural acoustics designer until that rainy night when she met Lu Xian holding a piano case outside the concert hall - a twenty-year-old genius violinist with a missing little finger on his left hand.
She didn't know why this boy knew her habits so well: the lighting delay in the studio, the angle at which the coffee cups were placed, and even the original parameters of her design drawings that were rejected by Party A. I don't even know why his piano case contains the hairpin she lost seven years ago, as well as ticket stubs for all the concert halls she has participated in.
When Lu Xian used the bow against her to modify the acoustic model, Shen Zhao was shocked to realize that every "accidental encounter" between them was a reunion he had carefully calculated. The resonant frequencies of the sound of rain, piano and heartbeat were composed into a paranoid watch as early as when he was twelve years old.
"Shen Zhao," he said softly while adjusting the strings, "it was never the piano shaft that you helped me tighten back then."
"It's my life that is about to collapse."
This is a story about architecture and music, reason and obsession. When the most rigorous acoustic designer meets the craziest violinist, those strings rusted by time will eventually vibrate again on a rainy night.
(A long echo that began in the summer of childhood, a forbidden love song composed with architectural acoustics)
Purpose: A broken life needs her