On the honor list in the corridor of the provincial key middle school, the ID photos of Shen Yan and Xie Huai are always three places apart - just like the invisible spectrum refracted by a prism.
As stepbrothers whose reorganized family is forced to share a piano room, they hold each other's most deadly clues: Shen Yan knows that Xie Huai uses a cello box to smuggle darkroom developer, and Xie Huai knows that Shen Yan uses the Schrödinger equation in a physics notebook to deduce the probability of kissing. Those abnormal data in the student union's weekly records were his cadence following him through Wutong Road late at night, and the half-box of Marlboros he deliberately left on the music stand.
The burst point occurs at the focus of a convex lens in a physics laboratory. When Xie Huai was filming the experiment as a reporter for the school magazine, Shen Yan suddenly pulled his school badge: "The convex lens imaging formula proves that some things are always between reality and reality." Xie Huai's white coat brushed against the boiling liquid nitrogen in the beaker.
The surveillance footage on the dean's computer began to be abnormal. A large number of secret photos with garbled time stamps appeared on Xie Huai's camera memory card. The most fatal thing was that the piano room they shared always sounded a strange string sound at two o'clock in the morning - Shen Yan was grading the physics Olympiad paper, while Xie Huai was writing his competition admission ticket number on the mirror with rosin. When the closing bell rang for the last subject of the city's joint examination, the grating ruler they knocked down in the equipment room was like a Pandora coordinate. The blood drops from Xie Huai's bite on his lower lip fell on the admission ticket number column of the answer sheet: "Brother, this position should be filled with my birthday."
Intention: None