I don't know whether my opponent is you or myself.
Lin Han and Mo Dong are good brothers who share the avatar "Spring" for live broadcasts. In front of the camera, they are virtual idols who split into two personalities in "spring": one is gentle and healing, and the other is gloomy and mysterious. Behind the camera, they are inseparable but silent roommates, maintaining a delicate emotional balance between traffic and survival.
Until Lin Han accidentally discovered Mo Dong's private collection - a three-year-old trumpet hidden in it. More than a thousand private messages recorded everything about him: preferences, habits, childhood memories, and even breathing frequency. Those just-right cares turned out to be carefully designed trajectories. The last entry in the diary clearly stated: "Kill the last spring, and no one can separate us."
Who is he going to kill? How can I protect him? No, he seems to want to kill me?
Fear is in the air. Lin Han began to realize that his life was being quietly replaced: his voice, expression, tone, preferences... Who was imitating whom? As the boundaries between the two "springs" become increasingly blurred, a fatal game about identity, possession and existence has quietly come to an end.
When a person is "seeed through" to the bone by another person, is it love or devouring?
Purpose: Through "virtual anchor", a unique identity carrier in the digital age, to explore how individuals can identify themselves, guard their boundaries, and resist the fear of being completely "replaced" in the confrontation with "another self" when intimate relationships are alienated into a wrestling field of engulfment and replacement. The work uses suspense as the shell and psychology as the core, questioning whether we are becoming ourselves in the current world wrapped in traffic and personality, or are we being quietly reshaped by the eyes and expectations of others. How much of our sense and sobriety have been blinded by fame, wealth and applause?