When roses and thorns conspire in the rainstorm
In the midsummer after the high school entrance examination, Feng Yuan was trapped in a cobweb woven by double ambiguities. The rain marks on the windows of the cram school cut the shadows of two girls - Jiang Lian paired a photo of a folded umbrella stand with a line from "The Little Prince"; the daughter of a wealthy car company hid temptation in literary metaphors; Shen Ming used iced oolong tea and bleeding band-aids to conquer the city; the business student pretending to be a rich girl was good at turning lies into honey.
The seeds of this emotional hurricane were laid as early as three years ago. In an open class in the third grade of junior high school, Shen Ming tied a red rope for Liu You in front of six cameras, but threw the sodium block into Jiang Lian's beaker. The blue fire that exploded reflected the prototype of the entanglement between the three. When Shen Ming finally led Liu You through the disciplinary notice on the bulletin board, Jiang Lian was using a craft blade to scrape off the "Successor" hot stamping on the car model, and the debris fell into the drainage ditch of the laboratory building together with the heavy rain.
Now the typhoon night has torn away all disguises, and the physical formula and the band-aid simultaneously sound the alarm. The moss on Jiang Lian's canvas shoes betrayed the storm on the rooftop, and Shen Ming moved like a red dot on a predator. In the cold light of the convenience store, two webs of aroma were about to close. Feng Yuan suddenly raised the iced oolong tea, and the water droplets on the bottle slid along the trajectory of Bernoulli's equation.
The composition text that Liu You tore up back then is lingering in his memory, the "coincidence" that Jiang Lian deliberately let the dean catch when she locked the door, and the correction fluid writing of "liar" on Shen Ming's burnt butterfly specimen, all came to life in this rainstorm. When Feng Yuan discovers that Jiang Lian's skill in handling wounds stems from the compass she inflicted on herself in the third grade of junior high school, and Shen Ming's bleeding nails hide the secret of the red rope of the temple fair, can the physical formula calculate who is lying in the eyes of the typhoon?
Two girls who treat people's hearts as experimental subjects, and a sober boy armed with reason, are performing a chemical reaction more violent than the carbonization of concentrated sulfuric acid under the 50mm/h rain curtain...
Intention: People's hearts are mixed, it's up to the judge to judge for himself