At 11 p.m., a bitter wind sweeps across the Jiaodong Peninsula. Inside the Yantai maintenance workshop of the Qingdao Maintenance Section under China Railway Jinan Bureau, Deputy Foreman Liu Lin is making final preparations for the upcoming "maintenance window." His phone screen lights up—a message from his wife, Yang Wenjuan: "Temperatures dropped tonight, be safe. I'm heading online for my shift now." "You too," he replies briefly before returning to his work, a faint, barely noticeable smile touching his lips.

This couple in their 30s, both track maintenance workers for the same railway section, are now in their seventh year working side-by-side during the Spring Festival travel rush.

Their story began in 2014 at Shandong Vocational College, where they both studied Railway Engineering. Shared career aspirations brought them closer, and after graduation, they both passed the recruitment interviews to become track maintenance workers for China Railway Jinan Bureau. "We didn't expect to be assigned to different cities," Yang Wenjuan recalls. "During our first year, the area around my workshop had poor transport links, and he was busy with the final preparations for two new high-speed rail lines. We didn't see each other for a whole year."

At that time, Liu Lin was deeply involved in the precision adjustment and final inspections before the openings of the Jinan-Qingdao High-Speed Railway and the Qingdao-Yancheng Railway. He traveled to various stations along the new lines, fine-tuning track geometry and identifying potential hazards. Their conflicting work schedules meant video calls were their only way to "meet." "Seeing the redness in his eyes and the grease stains on his work sleeves was heartbreaking," Yang Wenjuan says.

Around that time, during Yang Wenjuan's birthday, she tentatively suggested celebrating together. Liu Lin gave a vague "I'll try." On her birthday, as she left work, she found Liu Lin waiting under a phoenix tree, still in his dusty work clothes, holding a cake with a clumsily tied ribbon. "I can only stay for two hours; I have to catch a train back tonight," he said, his voice hoarse but his smile bright.

After the Jinan-Qingdao High-Speed Railway began operations, their "journeys toward each other" gained a speed boost. "Colleagues joked that the high-speed train had become our bridge," Yang Wenjuan says. "Even though our meetings were always rushed, reuniting after working hard together felt incredibly grounding."

In 2022, after five years of long-distance, they settled down in Yantai. However, the Spring Festival travel season, with its high-density train schedules, increases the pressure of track maintenance, and they often find themselves "guarding different sections," making time together scarce once more.

Liu Lin's workshop is responsible for the track equipment at Yantai Station and Yantai North Station, which see frequent passenger and freight train traffic. The complex equipment often requires him to work for hours continuously during the day, followed by maintenance shifts in sub-zero temperatures at night. "In the coldest weather, your gloves can freeze to the steel rails," he notes.

Yang Wenjuan works at the Zhifu Dedicated Passenger Line Maintenance Workshop, safeguarding the Qingdao-Rongcheng Intercity Railway. Track work can only be done during the nightly "maintenance window" from 11 p.m. to 3 a.m. Their schedules are constantly misaligned—often, she is heading out in her work clothes as he drags himself home, exhausted. A shared glance becomes their silent understanding. "During the busiest times, we lived in the same city but wouldn't see each other for two or three days," Yang Wenjuan says.

Once, Liu Lin passed by Yang Wenjuan's work section after his late shift. In the distance, he saw the moving light of a headlamp on the tracks. He knew it was her but did not disturb her work. "We're used to it. A meeting of eyes isn't as important as the safe meeting of trains," Yang Wenjuan remarks.

Their three-year-old daughter has grown accustomed to her parents' shifting schedules, occasionally asking in a tiny voice, "When can Daddy take me to the park?" "Our family's stability relies entirely on the grandparents' support," Yang Wenjuan explains. Her mother-in-law braids the little girl's hair every day and shares photos of her meals in the family group chat. These small, everyday moments provide the couple with their most comforting solace amidst the busyness.

A month before the 2026 Spring Festival travel rush, Yang Wenjuan was away for training while Liu Lin was in the peak of a construction period. Their daughter suddenly developed a high fever at night, and neither parent could return home. The family group chat immediately switched to "live update" mode: "Temperature is 38.2°C, we've used a cooling patch," "Just gave her some warm water, she seems okay." Every half hour, Liu Lin's parents would send updates and pictures of the sleeping child, reassuring them, "Focus on your work; we've got her."

This Chinese New Year's Eve, both are again on separate shifts. "We'll probably have to have our reunion dinner at different times," Yang Wenjuan says calmly. "For us, ensuring the safety of the Spring Festival travel rush and helping millions of families reunite is itself a special way to celebrate the holiday."

On Laba Festival, Yang Wenjuan took a day off in advance and spent the morning busy in the kitchen. She stewed ribs, fried spring rolls, and made dumplings, infusing the meal with the spirit of the coming new year. Liu Lin, having no night shift that evening, came home early. Their daughter rushed into his arms as he entered. At the dinner table, with red lanterns glowing outside the window and steam rising from the hot food, he served his daughter a piece of rib and added dumplings to his wife's bowl, saying softly, "You've worked hard. I'm sorry I can't stay up with you to see the new year in again." Yang Wenjuan shook her head, her heart warmed by the sight of her husband and daughter laughing together.

Outside, the wind howled, but inside, the lights were warm and welcoming. Though it wasn't New Year's Eve, the family gathered around the table, the clink of glasses and their daughter's laughter spoke louder than any words. "I plan to make the New Year's feast early and pack some of every dish for him to take to the workshop," Yang Wenjuan says with a smile. "Even if we don't eat at the same moment, it's still our shared reunion meal."

Outside the window, a Fuxinghao train speeds by, its lights illuminating the two parallel steel tracks stretching into the distance—much like their love and careers: each steadfast in their own path, yet always moving forward together. Two tracks, a lifetime of companionship.