“Shuhe, have you ever thought that our meeting here might also be a quantum superposition of states?” Lu Chenjue asked softly, his eyes fixed on the other person’s face beneath the warm desk lamp. “Before I stepped through that door, your state and mine were completely independent, with no connection whatsoever. But the moment we began our first conversation, our two systems became quantum-entangled. Now, every thought I have seems to be influenced by your existence.”
Shen Shuhe was startled by the cold physics professor’s deeply suggestive yet profoundly scholarly declaration. Her face flushed faintly beneath the vintage desk lamp’s pale orange glow. She gently turned the teacup in her hand, trying to keep her voice natural and elegant.
“If that is quantum entanglement, then I hope our wave function will never collapse under disruptive influences from the outside.” Shen Shuhe lifted her head, her eyes meeting Lu Chenjue’s unwavering gaze, her smile carrying a tenderness she had never shown before. “Chenjue, do you know what ancient poets called this phenomenon of entanglement?”
Lu Chenjue gave a slight shake of his head, his gaze never leaving her face. “What?”
Shen Shuhe smiled softly, her voice as gentle as a breeze passing through the leaves: “It is Li Shangyin’s ‘A meeting of hearts makes one point clear.’ The ancients knew nothing of quantum mechanics, but they understood that two souls could share a wondrous bond transcending space and time. With just a little harmony, a gentle touch between spirits, every distance disappears.”
The space between them seemed to draw completely near. The geographic distance of a few dozen centimeters across the antique wooden table suddenly became meaningless. They sat facing each other, surrounded by tens of thousands of books bearing the breath of millennia of history, yet in their eyes there was nothing left but the reflection of the other beneath Beijing’s fading sunset.
From the special reading room doorway came Wei Lan’s soft footsteps, cutting through the silence. Behind him, Qin Zhao followed with an armful of documents and an immensely satisfied look on his face. Seeing that Lu Chenjue was still sitting there, Qin Zhao gave his friend a light nudge, his smile brimming with mischief.
“Well, well, Professor Lu. You said you were coming back here to look for ancient astronomical records, didn’t you? How come I don’t see any records, but I do see you sweeping Professor Shen clean with those quantum eyes?”
Qin Zhao’s blunt teasing instantly shattered the poetic, ambiguous atmosphere between them. Shen Shuhe gave a small cough, her face burning red as she hurriedly bent down to gather the tea things, trying to hide her embarrassment.
Lu Chenjue shot Qin Zhao a frigid look sharp enough to freeze him where he stood. He rose and smoothed the neat folds of his overcoat, then turned to Shen Shuhe with an entirely different expression—tender, warm, and filled with lingering affection.
“I’ve taken up enough of your time today, Shuhe. Your tea was excellent, and our conversation... truly meant a great deal to me.”
Shen Shuhe stood as well, lifting her head slightly to look at Lu Chenjue, the graceful smile returning to her lips. “I enjoyed it too, Chenjue. I hope the uncertainty principle doesn’t keep you up tonight.”
Lu Chenjue smiled faintly—a rare but dazzling smile that lit up his cold, angular face. He walked a few steps, but then, as if remembering something, stopped at the reading room door. Turning back to look directly into Shen Shuhe’s eyes, he said in a deep, warm voice filled with quiet certainty: “My wave function has already completely collapsed toward you, Shuhe.”
Lu Chenjue’s warm declaration was like a fundamental particle carrying immense energy, colliding with the quiet space of the ancient texts reading room and causing the air around Shen Shuhe to seem to freeze. The hands of the wall clock continued their silent movement, but in their minds, time seemed to have lost its inherent linearity. Shen Shuhe stood motionless beside the tea table, her slender hands tightening around the soft silk cloth. She raised her eyes to watch Lu Chenjue’s tall, lean figure gradually disappear beyond the dark-brown wooden door. Her heart, usually as still as an autumn lake, now stirred with ceaseless ripples, spreading through every cell of her emotions.
Qin Zhao stood beside Wei Lan and lightly nudged the cold-faced librarian, wearing a thoroughly smug smile. He tilted his head, leaned close to Wei Lan’s ear, and whispered in his familiar low, teasing voice: “A Lan, look at that. The iceberg of our Institute of Theoretical Physics finally learned about the law of universal gravitation. Too bad this gravitational force isn’t directed toward Earth—it’s Professor Shen from your side who’s got him firmly in her pull.”