I tore off the charging head of a charging station on the edge of the desert.
That night, a young man in white came to the door carrying a broken gun head.
"Pay for my cultivation." When he kicked the door open, the desert wind and sand poured in.
I plugged him into a house full of chargers, but he was still pale and weak.
Until one day he discovered that what he relied on was not electricity——
It's the temperature that makes my heart beat faster when my fingertips touch it.
Intention: When we can't find any standard interface, we may only rely on the resonance of our heartbeats to prove that we are still alive and can warm another life.