The Gaze Behind the Screen

At three o'clock in the morning, the blue light of the mobile phone illuminates the faces of countless insomniacs. Three young men who did not know each other committed suicide by taking pills in the early morning of the same day. There was no suicide note at the scene, and the only thing they had in common was that the last pictures on their mobile phones were all stuck on the playback interface of the same short sleep-aid video. Former criminal policeman Lin Shen resigned because he witnessed a witness jumping off a building three months ago. Now he relies on short videos to numb himself. He discovered that the three deceased people had all followed a mysterious account called "Blue Light at Three in the Morning", and he himself also visited the same live broadcast room late at night. Female reporter Jiang Yao appears calm and rational, but in fact suffers from severe FOMO. During her investigation, she found that those who left messages such as "Thank you, I will sleep well tonight" in the live broadcast room were disappearing one by one. An encrypted death list has surfaced. Thirty-seven names, three dead, thirty-four remaining. There is a fifteen-year-old girl on the list - the daughter of the criminal police captain Gu Huaian. Her countdown has only 23 hours left. "Return to Zero" whispers in the dark: People are not killing people, it's algorithms that are killing people. The fatal frequency of 0.5 Hz is hidden in those white noises that help you sleep late at night; there is a blurry face printed in those 0.01 Second subconscious images. When our lives are filled with screens, when our emotions are precisely controlled by algorithms, and when our memories are stored in the cloud - are we still "us"? Someone is staring at the screen, and someone is staring at you from behind the screen.