Tomorrow's Weather Forecast

In 2045, the city of the near future will be covered by an AI celestial system with an accuracy of 99.999%, Umbrella-shaped drones and clothing index, and people will no longer look up at the sky. Lin Shen is the operation and maintenance engineer of Tianxiang System. Three years ago, my fiancée left after saying, "I want to experience things beyond the predictions." He lives his life within a set of parameters - precise, controllable, emotionless. During an inspection, he discovered that there was a neat "37-second error" in the old city. All predictions deviated by 0.037 Seconds here, which was accurate every second. Following the error, he walked into the "Cloud View" cafe hidden in an old alley. There is Xia Zhiwei - a girl who names the weather every day. She writes weather cards and creates beautiful rainbows in a prism installation on the roof. She was also the one who made the astronomical system go awry - she left a door in the algorithm. Behind that door is the past that she can't let go of. Ex-boyfriend Xu Zhiyuan, chief algorithm architect of the astronomical system, died in an extreme thunderstorm a year ago. That thunderstorm happened right on the edge of the error coverage. If there were no errors left by him, the warning would have been issued 37 seconds earlier. 37 Seconds. She hung up on his last call. A "done" message was shown as read and no reply was given. The weather cards she wrote every day were different from the 1,047 cards Xu Zhiyuan left before his death that she didn't know about. The handwriting was ordinary and the habits were the same. What she inherited was something she didn't know she had inherited. The last letter he left in the encrypted folder read: >"If you meet someone---