Wrong Question and Reverse Boundary

What does it feel like to get a score of 32 on the physics exam? Lin Ye knows best. The force analysis diagram is reversed, the direction of the friction force is wrong, and the simplest two-force balance can be written as the addition of the resultant force. His test paper had more red crosses than correct answers. Physics teacher Zhang Cheng put up with him for three years, writing comments next to every wrong question he answered, and he wrote again and again, and corrected again and again. During the last period of evening self-study, the lights went out. It wasn't a blackout - it was the light of the entire world that had been unplugged. Lin Ye and Zhang Cheng fell into a strange gray-white world. There is no gravity, no sound, and every crack in the ground is like a red cross. What's even more terrifying is that there are "gatekeepers" wandering in this world-human figures made of rulers, monsters made of protractors, and giants made of scales. They are not monsters. They are physics teachers. They are physics teachers from generation to generation who have been swallowed up by this world. They don't remember who they are, but their obsession is still there - to hold on to the question they have taught them all their lives. There are no golden fingers in Linye. He only had a book full of wrong questions written with red crosses, and a teacher who was willing to write comments next to each of his wrong questions. He is not fighting monsters, but solving problems. Every time a question he got wrong was solved, a teacher was able to rest in peace. "Physics doesn't lie to anyone. But you can lie to yourself." "Don't rush. Take your time." The red cross is not a judgment, it is a comment. Wrong questions are not a shame, they are a conversation. When all the physics teachers were forgotten in the depths of the rules, a student who couldn't even draw the force analysis correctly became the last one who could understand what they were saying.