Under the eaves of the library on a rainy night, 40-year-old electrical engineer Qing Cheng tilted his black umbrella towards 21-year-old medical student Ellen. The fragrance of pine wood mixed with the smell of blood, and the smile of his five-year-old daughter on the screen saver of his mobile phone shattered her youth that had been eroded by domestic violence.
This forbidden love grows wild in the industrial ruins. Qingcheng used a drone to draw electrocardiograms at an altitude of 288 meters, and Ellen stitched up the cracks in his soul in the ruins of the substation. They kissed in the rainstorm, tore under the aurora, and spent ten years carving each other into tattoos in their flesh and blood - he taught her to read storm data, and she calculated the shelf life of his heartbeat for him; he gave her a modified wolf-proof bracelet, and she wrote his job number in the beneficiary column of her will.
When a suitor of the same age kneels down on one knee holding a diamond ring, and when his daughter Xuanxuan's cry penetrates every midnight, the love fortress built with the observatory data begins to collapse. The bone marrow donation scar under Ellen's collarbone and the binary tattoo on Qingcheng's chest are burning with each other. One is hugging a group of wild cats in the rainstorm, and the other is booking a double grave in the Aurora Zone. It wasn't until one day when the smart bracelets issued death warnings at the same time that they discovered: It turns out that the most violent aurora is the tears that they dare not shed when they are in love.
This was a circuit experiment that lasted for 4383 days. Two conductors with wounds continued to approach and separate until all the insulation layers were burned away, leaving only the eternal ventricular fibrillation waveform on the electrocardiogram.
