Chapter 5 Resonance · Starlight Through the Cocoon
The science festival countdown ticked like a metronome in the lab. Lin Yan squinted at the blueprints spread across the workbench, his third cup of black coffee growing cold beside him. Outside, the osmanthus trees shed golden petals that stuck to the windows like confetti, but none of them noticed.
"Hey, Einstein." Chen Ye flicked a paintbrush at him, splattering starry - sky blue across Lin Yan's notebook. "If you stare at that gear any harder, it'll start sweating."
Su Wantang swatted Chen Ye's arm, her辩论社 (debate club) lanyard dangling over the mechanical clock frame. "Leave him alone. He's calculating the gear ratios for the star projection."
Lin Yan glanced up to find her nose smudged with silver paint from the clock face. The sight made something in his chest soften, like sunlight melting frost. He'd been avoiding her since the storm, unsure how to face the warmth of her palm or the way she'd held his broken pieces together.
"Wantang, can you pass the caliper?" he asked, voice quieter than usual.
Their fingers brushed as she handed it over. She jerked back, knocking over a jar of screws. "S - sorry!"
Chen Ye snorted. "Smooth, guys. Real smooth."
The tension dissolved when the power cut hit at midnight. The lab plunged into darkness, only the emergency exit sign glowing like a crimson eye. Su Wantang yelped as she stumbled over a toolbox, but Lin Yan's arm shot out to steady her.
"Are you—"
"Fine," she said quickly, stepping back. But in the dim light, he saw her ears were通红 (bright red).
Chen Ye whistled. "Romantic, but can we focus? The clock's not gonna assemble itself in the dark." He pulled out his phone flashlight, casting dramatic shadows across the room. "Behold, your knight in neon sneakers!"
They worked by phone light, Su Wantang reading blueprints aloud while Lin Yan fitted gears, and Chen Ye sketching constellations on the clock's dome. When the first ray of dawn seeped through the windows, the mechanical clock stood complete—a bronze behemoth with gears nested like a fractal universe, the dome etched with Orion and the Pleiades.
"Wait." Su Wantang leaned closer, pointing to a tiny compartment under the 14:27 mark. "What's this?"
Lin Yan's ears heated. "Just... a spare part."
But when the clock was wheeled onto the science festival stage that afternoon, sunlight hit the dome's prism, projecting a rotating galaxy across the auditorium. The crowd gasped as the minute hand crossed 14:27—click—the compartment sprang open, and a shower of metal鸢尾花 (iris flowers) spun into the air, each petal engraved with a tiny "CY"—his mother's initials.
Su Wantang's hand flew to her mouth. Next to her, Chen Ye whistled sharply, though his eyes were softer than usual.
The principal announced Lin Yan's provincial competition nomination over the applause, but Lin Yan's gaze locked on the back row, where his father stood rigid, face pale as the iris petals drifting down. Their eyes met for a heartbeat before the man turned and left, the door slamming like a gunshot.
"Hey." Chen Ye nudged him. "You good?"
Lin Yan touched the iris petal in his pocket. Somewhere, a clock ticked steadily. "Yeah," he said. "I think I am."
Later, as they cleaned the lab, Su Wantang found the old observatory photo tucked in Chen Ye's漫画本 (comic book). The man in the picture wore a familiar watch—a vintage chronograph she'd seen in Chen Ye's desk drawer.
"Is this... your uncle?" she asked quietly.
Chen Ye's smile faded. "Yeah. He died of a misdiagnosis. Left me his watch and that notebook." He tapped the sketch of her sleeping in the hospital, drawn in soft pencil strokes. "Said regrets are just stars that haven't found their light yet."
Su Wantang hugged the漫画本 (comic book) to her chest. "He was right."
Outside, the school bell chimed. Lin Yan adjusted the clock's final gear, feeling the steady thrum of mechanics under his fingers. For the first time, the past didn't feel like a weight—it was a foundation, the gears that had led him here, to this moment, with sunlight on his friends' faces and a future stretching ahead, unwritten but full of possibility.
As the crowd filed out, he caught Su Wantang's eye. She held up the iris petal, smiling. And somewhere, far off, a storm ended, leaving only the clear, bright ring of a clock beginning to chime.