Lu Buqi: Displacement Identification Record

In the land of Qilu, there is not only Confucius and Mencius, but also a breathing wall. There is something wrong with this building. The wall is straight and the ground is flat, but the space is crooked. Some people will walk into the corridor with endless copies, and some people will step into the disappearing floor. In Linzi's late-night subway tunnel, the sound of Cuju from two thousand years ago can be heard out of thin air. Qingdao's century-old German-style buildings are slowly lifting into the sky while suspended by gravity. The ancient wall of Qingshiguan has grown a physical will to refuse passage. The old city of Zibo has folded into a double mirror image. The obsessive-compulsive building appraiser Lu Buqi specializes in handling cases where "the cause cannot be found". He does not exorcise, only calibrate. "Because my name is Lu Buqi, and I know the pain of being uneven better than anyone else, so I want to give all living beings a 'Qi' home." When there is an error in reality, he can accurately see 0.037°. Lu Buqi brought a hapless meter Old Qiao and a thug who could hear the wall begging for mercy. Three people, with a copy of "Dajiao Liaozhai Inventory", traveled across the land of Qilu. They used ancient bronze axes from the Shang Dynasty to suppress the rampant concrete, used Taishan stone gandan from roadside stalls to suppress the reversed earth veins, and restored the crooked spaces one by one. But the job comes with a price. The more accurately he cultivates, the less the world will remember him. In the end, even he himself will start to forget who he is. But he is still looking for a mistake. A deviation that cannot be repaired... 0.037°. Three, two, one. Return to position.