Chen Mo's life is like a three-day old hand cake, cold, hard, and tasteless. Every day, I am squeezed into a second dimension on the subway during the morning rush hour, waiting for a pot of half-dead pothos at my desk, and listening to my boss draw a pie that I will never eat.
Until that early morning, the broken sound-controlled light with poor connection in the corridor of his home seemed to have finally connected to a line in a mysterious universe——
