At the age of thirty-two, Chen Wei swallowed half a bottle of sleeping pills. When she opened her eyes again, she was back in the senior high school classroom where she was seventeen years old. Standing in front of her was Zhou Yu, the substitute physics teacher—the man who only left a vague silhouette in her gloomy youth in her previous life. In this life, she decided to quietly approach the light. He is a 24-year-old Ph. D. In physics, and she is a reborn silent student. In the dusty classrooms and in the empty corridors at dusk, an undercurrent that no one knows about, written with restraint and proportion, quietly develops. She is good at physics, but she wants to learn translation and go out to see the wider world. But the closer I get to him, the more I want to cling to him. He restrained all his out-of-bounds glances, but gave her the most special care. Until the sunset on the day when the college entrance examination ended, he left a note full of physical metaphors: "There will be countless probability wave functions in the future. May you collapse into the brightest one."
