Your distance

The physical gap between me and my partner once spanned 287 kilometers, but now it has shrunk to a mere 3 kilometers. Professor Bo Chang Yi, who was once known for his deep empathy, has transformed into someone unrecognizably cold. The joy that once filled Ting Shuang’s heart disappeared without warning, replaced by a growing sense of dread. When you pause to reflect on the situation, an unsettling realization dawns—trouble seems to be lurking just around the corner. The abrupt shift in distance and demeanor carries an ominous weight, as though the universe itself is signaling impending chaos. What was once a comforting presence now feels like an approaching storm, leaving behind only unease and unanswered questions. The sudden proximity, rather than bringing comfort, only amplifies the tension in the air. It’s as though fate has twisted circumstances into something unrecognizable, turning warmth into ice and security into fear. The future, once bright with promise, now appears shadowed by uncertainty and potential calamity. Every passing moment feels heavier, as if time itself is counting down to an inevitable collapse. The change is too drastic, too sudden—nothing good ever comes from such rapid, unexplained shifts.