Shen Yuqi did not think of Li Wei when she woke up that morning.
The thought came later—uninvited, subtle—only after the day had already begun.
She moved through her routine without hurry. Breakfast was quick, her mother reminding her again to eat properly, her brother already complaining about an early lecture. She left the apartment with a familiar sense of calm, her mind occupied by the schedule she had reviewed the night before.
At the building, the lobby was livelier than usual.
She slowed instinctively near the elevators.
The doors opened.
Li Wei was inside.
She stepped in.
"Good morning," she said.
"Good morning."
The doors closed.
He pressed his floor after she pressed hers, the sequence so familiar now that neither of them seemed aware of it.
The elevator rose.
"How's your workload today?" he asked.
She glanced sideways, surprised by the specificity of the question.
"Busy," she replied. "But manageable."
"That's good."
They stood in silence for a moment.
Then she asked, "What about you?"
He paused briefly. "The same."
The elevator stopped at her floor.
She stepped out.
"I'll see you later," she said.
"Yes."
She walked down the hallway, aware of the faint shift in her steps—lighter, steadier.
At her desk, the day unfolded smoothly. She worked through emails, attended meetings, responded efficiently when called upon. The rhythm of it all felt natural, grounding.
It wasn't until mid-morning, when she stepped out of a conference room with a colleague, that something changed.
"You and the CEO arrive at the same time a lot," her colleague remarked casually.
Shen Yuqi stopped walking.
"What?"
Her colleague laughed lightly. "I've seen you two in the elevator together almost every morning this week."
Yuqi frowned slightly. "It's a coincidence."
"I didn't say it wasn't," the woman replied with a shrug. "Just an observation."
They continued walking.
But the words lingered.
An observation.
At her desk, Shen Yuqi stared at her screen longer than necessary, her fingers hovering above the keyboard. She replayed the past week in her mind—not with intention, but with a sudden clarity that hadn't been there before.
The elevator.
The lobby.
The timing.
Had it really been that noticeable?
She shook her head and focused on her work.
At lunchtime, she left the building alone. The café was crowded, the line slow. She ordered and waited, scrolling through her phone.
She didn't look behind her.
She didn't need to.
"Green tea?" Li Wei asked.
She turned, startled despite herself.
"Yes," she said. "You remembered."
He nodded. "You're consistent."
She smiled faintly.
They waited.
This time, the silence stretched a little longer.
"Do you usually take lunch around this time?" he asked.
"Yes."
"So do I."
They collected their drinks and walked back toward the building.
Inside, she hesitated near the elevators.
"I'll go ahead," she said.
"I'll join you," he replied.
They stepped in together.
The doors closed.
The elevator descended.
Neither of them spoke.
And yet, the silence felt less empty than before—less accidental.
In the afternoon, Shen Yuqi found herself distracted.
Not unfocused. Not inefficient.
Just… aware.
She noticed the time more often. Not to track her work—but to anticipate transitions.
When a meeting ended earlier than expected, she slowed her steps instinctively as she headed back to her floor.
She didn't tell herself why.
The elevator doors opened.
He wasn't there.
She stepped in anyway.
The doors closed.
As the elevator rose, she felt a faint sense of disappointment—so brief it barely registered.
She frowned slightly.
This is ridiculous, she thought.
At her floor, she stepped out and continued working.
Later that day, she delivered documents to another department. On her way back, she stopped near the water dispenser to refill her bottle.
Li Wei stood nearby, flipping through a file.
"Oh," she said.
He looked up. "You're here."
"Yes."
He closed the file. "Busy?"
"Always."
He nodded. "Same."
They stood there, both drinking water, the sound of the dispenser filling the quiet space.
"By the way," he said, "your colleague mentioned the revised schedule. Thank you for handling it."
"You're welcome."
There was a pause.
Then he added, "People notice when things run smoothly."
She smiled faintly. "I'll remember that."
As she walked away, she realized her steps had slowed again.
That evening, she finished earlier than usual.
She packed up her things and stood, hesitating for a moment before heading toward the elevators.
The doors were closed.
She waited.
They opened.
Li Wei was inside.
She didn't pause this time.
"You're leaving early," he observed.
"Yes," she replied. "For once."
He smiled faintly. "That's good."
They descended together.
At the lobby, they exited side by side.
Outside, the air was cool, the sky darkening quickly.
They walked toward the subway entrance.
"Do you ever feel like time passes strangely here?" she asked suddenly.
He glanced at her. "In what way?"
"Some days feel long," she said. "Others disappear."
He considered this. "Routine has that effect."
"Yes," she agreed.
They reached the entrance.
She stopped.
"This is me."
He nodded. "Have a good night."
"You too."
She descended the stairs.
At home, dinner was louder than usual. Her brother complained about an exam, her parents debated weekend plans. She listened, responded, laughed at the right moments.
Later, alone in her room, she sat at her desk and stared at her notebook without writing anything.
Her colleague's words replayed in her mind.
You and the CEO arrive at the same time a lot.
She frowned.
The next morning, she arrived slightly later than usual.
The lobby was crowded.
She didn't slow near the elevators.
She stepped in as soon as the doors opened.
Li Wei was there.
She blinked.
"Good morning," he said.
"Good morning."
The doors closed.
"You're late," he remarked.
She glanced at her watch. "Barely."
He smiled faintly. "I waited."
The words landed softly.
"You did?" she asked.
He paused.
"Yes," he said. "The elevator was crowded earlier."
She nodded.
The explanation made sense.
And yet.
The elevator rose.
When it stopped at her floor, she stepped out.
"I'll see you later," she said.
"Yes."
As she walked away, Shen Yuqi felt a subtle shift settle somewhere deep inside her—not excitement, not anticipation.
Just awareness.
Not of him.
But of them—moving through the same spaces, adjusting unconsciously, accounting for each other without ever saying it aloud.
And she understood something then, quietly and without drama:
Whatever this was, it was no longer invisible.