Thirty Days Measurement Rule

When precision becomes a prisoner, who will measure those unquantifiable moments in life? Zhong Yu, a funeral planner who uses data to measure death, received a cruel diagnosis on his thirty-fifth birthday: He only had thirty days left to live. He is used to planning the end points for others, so he decided to use the best way - making a strict "30-day plan" - to spend his last days. However, three unexpected visitors disrupted his cold composure. Zheng Chi, a taciturn father who records time with wood shavings; Andu, a volunteer who holds jasmine in his hand and soothes death with its fragrance; and a six-year-old girl who suffers from heart disease and creates her own "heartbeat bank". They broke into his orderly world with sawdust, flower fragrance and childish words. From planning a "pre-mortem funeral" for Wei Man, to working with his father to complete the thirty-year-overdue Trojan horse, Zhong Yu discovered that the "measurement" he had used to isolate emotions throughout his life had become the only language to connect each other. When the thirtieth day comes, a late misdiagnosis notice hangs between reality and illusion - can life really be judged by medical data? And are the loves and existences that have been re-measured in the countdown more real than time itself? This is a story about how to use reason to measure sensibility, use loss to measure possessions, and use death to reversely calibrate life. When all measuring sticks finally bend into circles, we will finally understand that the most accurate scales in life are precisely those "uncertain" moments.