Anomalous Human Records Manual

A wisp of bitter fragrance and a silent pop-up friend request shattered the ice shell called "calm" that words and deeds had built over a year. "It's like a song" - Weng Zheng. This name was like an old calcified shrapnel, prying open his nerves again. He is the storm, the chaotic equation that cannot be resolved by the rational world, and the only damned "exception" that can make his "stand by and watch" practice break down in an instant. This is a dilemma that begins with intellectual attraction and ends with a twisted bond. A medical student and a scientific genius, a shunner and a worldly fanatic. Every time Weng Zheng appears and disappears, there is philosophical questioning and childlike cruelty. He plundered, he gave gifts; he regarded words and deeds as the only resonance box, and smashed it with his own hands. Yan Zheng tried to build a high wall with Buddhist scriptures, medical science, and endless silence, but found in despair that Weng Zheng could always find new ways to invade - an obscure fable, an intimate photo, a late-night phone call that broke down, and even an ancient book accurately delivered to the door of his old house... He forced him to respond, forced him to be broken, and forced him to see clearly that "the Buddha in his heart has long been broken." When observation turns into obsession and understanding becomes extravagant hope, where will this game of dancing on the edge of a knife end? Is it mutual redemption or mutual destruction? This is an extreme pull, a cruel exploration of the boundaries of "self". When the storm comes again, choosing to open the door may be the beginning of true practice.