Bai Li would finish a late inspection and find a message from Yan Cijin waiting on her wrist band. A little pictogram of a moon, or a cup, or sometimes just a single word like "come." Yan Cijin would pretend she was only asking for help with a stubborn frame or a failed heater coil, but by the time Bai Li arrived there would always be two cups ready and a soft lamp on in the studio, with Yan Cijin looking up from her work as if she had been waiting all day for that exact sound of footsteps.
They learned each other slowly.
