— When travertine returns to the forest, time sits down for dinner

I. Prologue: a long-awaited reunion between stone and tree
Press your ear to the travertine slab and you’ll hear tides—waves from a Mesozoic Mediterranean locked into tiny pores 150 million years ago.
Run a fingertip along the teak grain and you’ll feel monsoons—golden breath of Myanmar’s rainy season encoded in every growth ring.
When travertine meets teak, time folds itself into a dining table, waiting for tonight’s candlelight to unfold it again.

II. Travertine slab: bringing prehistory to your dining room

• 1:1 replication of natural travertine pores without the fragility—
  high-density sintering lets red wine, curry, or a 100 °C casserole hit the surface with zero absorption, zero stains;
  6-Mohs hardness shrugs off knife scratches and scissor drops;
  a matte micro-textured finish feels like a millennium-smoothed pebble—no salt, no grit, only silk.

III. Myanmar teak: giving stone a belt that breathes

• FAS-grade teak veneer, rich in natural oils, its golden-brown hue shifting with dawn and dusk;
  2 cm ultra-thin travertine inlays gird the legs like a grey ribbon, breaking the monotony of timber while keeping the palette quietly soft.
• Multi-ply solid-wood core, cross-laminated to resist warping—whether northern under-floor heating or southern monsoons, it merely watches in silence.

IV. Spatial magic: knees notice comfort first
72 cm clearance beneath the top, 100 cm knee-width—
long legs can cross freely, kids can sit lotus-style;
the robot vacuum glides through and the cat convenes secret meetings below.

V. Three-act vignette: one table, many lives
07:00 Breakfast
Sunlight drips through travertine pores, scattering gold flakes across a bowl of oats.
19:00 Family Feast
Eight seats unfold easily; steam from the hotpot rises off the slab while the teak stays a gentle 28 °C to the touch.
23:00 Nightcap
Candlelight flickers, stone craters cast lunar shadows; you lay a palm on the surface as if calming a slowly beating heart.

VI. Epilogue: slicing eternity into a bite-sized now
The Shiyou Dining Table is not furniture—it is a piece of temporal editing:
a prehistoric shoreline trimmed into a slab,
a century-old forest trimmed into four legs,
a designer’s 0.1 mm tolerance trimmed into fingertip silk,
eternity finally trimmed into a bite-sized now.

Tonight, when you raise the first glass, toast both the stone and the tree—
they traveled eons just to sit with you through this mortal flicker of firelight.