Zhou Ning's world is a precise physical formula, with metal gears meshing with the established trajectory, and the expectations of single mothers are like bells hanging from the ceiling, beating the rhythm of "the future comes first." Qiu Zhuangjing's life is a distorted electric guitar solo, and the pear vortex behind the black-rimmed glasses is full of rebellion. In a house where her parents are in conflict, only the trembling of the strings allows her to touch it freely.
Seventeen years old under the kapok tree, their shadows overlap in the corridor. One is a top student who lives in the optimal solution, and the other is a "crazy woman" who breaks the rules. However, in the unsolvable physics problems and out-of-tune chords, we can see the cracks in each other's armor. Zhou Ning hides his greed for warmth, while Qiu Zhuangjing restrains her yearning for stability. The two threads of red and blue are entangled in the heavy rain and first snow of adolescence, thinking that they can bypass the hidden reef of reality.
But growth is a cruel question of proof. When Zhou Ning's admission quota and Qiu Zhuangjing's band tour collided at the crossroads, and when the multiple-choice questions of "future" and "freedom" had to be written, they understood that once some gravitational fields are formed, the acceleration when they separate is enough to tear apart all unspoken agreements.
From school uniforms to formal attire, from cicadas to busy traffic, the red and blue lines eventually stretched farther and farther in the latitude and longitude of the city, leaving only the faded picks in the piano case and the formulas blurred by tears in the notebook - it turns out that the most painful thing is not the parallel lines, but the destined deviation after intersection.
Intention: Hidden in the game of "future" and "freedom"