As everyone calmed down, Mu Yiran and Ke Xun looked again at the painting "Schrödinger's Cat" hanging on the wall.
The painting remained the same as before it was painted: a black background with only some granular, wave-like dots, but Qi Muhuan, Dong Yao, and Deng Lin, who were depicted in the painting, were no longer visible.
"The granular dots in the painting are different from before," Mu Yiran said, pointing to the upper right corner of the painting. "Before it was painted, I glanced at this spot; there were three particles arranged in a triangular pattern, but now, it's a disordered distribution."
Ke Xun suddenly realized: "So, could it be that the three people are represented as particles in the painting, and they are actually in the painting, just not in human form?"
Mu Yiran nodded slightly: "That should be it."
Wei Dong's voice suddenly interrupted from the side: "Ke Xun, I've already prepared Newton's coffin lid for you, you now..." Let me explain why stepping on your right foot with your left foot can actually make you fly.
Ke Xun turned around and winked at him, "I told you, not understanding the question is fatal, you know? Remember the requirements displayed on the big screen in the initial room—all scientific phenomena, theories, formulas, and so on, as well as hypotheses with theoretical basis, logically consistent inferences, paradoxes, conventional views, and widely known phenomena—note the 'paradoxes,' 'conventional views,' and 'widely known phenomena.' What does this mean? As long as the acceptance level is high, it can be considered real in the painting."
"Damn, I get it!" Wei Dong suddenly realized, "Left foot stepping on right foot—isn't that a move often used in kung fu movies? It has a large audience. Even if people know it violates Grandpa Niu's certain law, they still accept it being portrayed in movies and TV shows. After all, there's a little bit of theoretical support behind it, like using leverage or something."
"Right, young comrade, you're not good enough," Ke Xun patted him on the shoulder, "Your imagination is too limited; even your hairline won't help you cover it up."
"Get lost! Hairline and imagination have absolutely no relation, you know that!" Wei Dong said.
He Tang, who had calmed down, chimed in, "But Xiao Ke, your imagination is a bit too wild. No one but you could come up with that 'left foot stepping on right foot' move. I was drawing black lines down my forehead while doing it, you know?"
"You guys are alright," Wu You chimed in with a nasal tone. "My challenge was: how to jump over a ten-meter-long sandpit without using any props. The sand in the pit was quicksand; if you fell in, you'd be completely submerged. I thought Ke Xun was a sports student, maybe he could help, so I asked him for help. Guess what he gave me?"
"What idea?" Zhu Haowen asked calmly.
"He told me to use the 'Butter Cat's Law'!" Wu You said, looking both amused and exasperated.
Everyone: "..."
"What's a Butter Cat? Is it related to Schrödinger's cat?" Luo Yu asked, scratching his head, genuinely unsure.
"If a piece of bread with only one side covered in butter is accidentally dropped, the buttered side will always be facing down," Shao Ling said. "And if a cat falls from mid-air, it will always land on its feet. So if you stick the unbuttered side of the bread to the cat's back and throw it into the air, based on these two phenomena, the butter and the cat will never land."
Luo Yi thought for a moment, then exclaimed, "Oh!" He understood: "If the cat's feet land, the unbuttered side would be facing down, which violates the rule that the buttered side always faces down. Conversely, it violates the rule that the cat always lands feet first. So, to make these two rules true, the bread and the cat stuck together will never land."
"This is a paradox that is fundamentally impossible," Shao Ling said. "But precisely because it is a hypothetical scenario with a theoretical basis and is logically consistent, it actually holds true in the painting."
"You absolutely cannot imagine what it feels like to have a cat tied to my front and a piece of buttered bread stuck to my back, tumbling around in the air," Wu You said, glancing sideways at Ke Xun.
Wei Dong and Luo Yi gave Ke Xun a look of admiration: "You're awesome, that's a really brilliant idea!"
Ke Xun gave himself two thumbs up: "Great job."
Qin Ci said, "I think the most important rule displayed on the big screen in the initial room is actually just one thing: 'No empirical evidence is needed, only imagination.' This might be the biggest source of Cheng Shi's resentment about his son's suicide. Many people believe that the biggest drawback of exam-oriented education is that it stifles children's imagination to a certain extent. You know, imagination is the driving force of technological and human progress, and also an important source of happiness in life. As an abstract painter, Cheng Shi should understand the importance of imagination better than anyone else; perhaps for him, imagination is the core of life."
"So it seems," Zhu Haowen's lips twitched slightly, "that among us, only Ke Xun used the real strategy to win."
Ke Xun clasped his hands in a fist salute: "You flatter me, you flatter me, I'm sorry for making you all laugh."
Wei Dong was about to slap the smug guy when someone shouted at the entrance of the exhibition hall: "You guys! This area is cleared out, get out of here!"
Without lingering, everyone filed out of the exhibition hall, with Wei Dong on Ke Xun's back—one of Wei Dong's shoes was still in the painting, and with the snow outside so thick, they couldn't walk barefoot.
Arriving at the art museum's lobby, they saw dozens of people setting up equipment, some adjusting lights, some fiddling with cameras, and others testing microphones.
It was a film crew.
Passing by the staff, they overheard a few people chatting.
"I heard Dong Yao and Qi Muhuan's reality show is filming here too?"
"That's right. Originally, they were supposed to film in the morning, and we'd film ours in the afternoon, but our Director Zhang seems to have talked to them about it. We have other plans for the afternoon, and they agreed to change it to them filming in the afternoon."
"What kind of show is it?"
"I heard it's a show where you film a bunch of ordinary people playing pranks and challenges together. It's filmed with hidden cameras the whole time, 24/7, for seven days straight."
"Wow, reality shows are everywhere these days, they can come up with anything. But filming with ordinary people, aren't they worried they'll be too busy chasing after celebrities to focus on filming?"
"It's fine. The crew has selected pre-screened ordinary people; probably not many will recognize them. That's the effect they want. Viewers love seeing ordinary people kept in the dark until the celebrities' true identities are revealed at the end."
"24 hours, 7 days, those two are really going all out."
"Can we not work hard? This industry is fiercely competitive. Everyone's working themselves to the bone, scheming and plotting, all for the sake of a glamorous public image and fame and fortune."
"Heh, what's the use? You can't take anything with you when you die."
"Stop talking nonsense, let's get to work."
...
The artists dispersed at their hotel, exchanged contact information with Wu You and He Tang, and went their separate ways, some by plane, some by train, each heading home.
It was snowing in Z City, with fluffy snowflakes fluttering under the gloomy sky.
Ke Xun sat cross-legged on the thick, feathery gray carpet in the living room, flipping through a book called "Schrödinger's Cat - The Mysterious Quantum World," which he had bought at the bookstore on the way back.
Mu Yiran came over with a freshly brewed steaming cup of coffee, sat down on the carpet, handed him a cup, glanced at the pages of his book, and then looked at the city lights gradually lighting up outside the French windows.
Ke Xun tossed aside his book, took a sip of coffee, and frowned. "Not sweet."
"Add some..." Before Mu Yiran could finish the word "sugar," Ke Xun had already pounced on him, cupping his face and giving him a few kisses before licking his lips contentedly and sitting back down. "Sweet."
"How's your studying going?" Mu Yiran leaned back leisurely on the beanbag chair.
Since "hanging out" with this guy, Mu Yiran felt he'd lost his former upright and elegant posture.
"Two words to sum it up," Ke Xun continued, sipping his coffee, the steam rising from his mouth and nose. "Headache, fear."
"Are you questioning whether the world we live in is also a dualistic world?" Mu Yiran looked at him.
Ke Xun nodded. "I think, just like the ideas the program wants to embody, humanity's current scientific and technological level is limited. We can't measure or define what the constituent elements of consciousness are, so we can't absolutely deny that it doesn't exist independently.
" "So, what if?" What if there truly is a consciousness that transcends matter, not just in its higher-dimensional existence, but in its ability to determine matter itself—to determine the life, death, and even the fate of us humans, composed of material elements? What should we do then? Should we helplessly await our demise, or try to fight it?
"If it can transcend matter, how can we fight it? If we can only helplessly await our demise, then what's the point of constantly entering and leaving the painting?
" "Yiran, you know what? I have a suspicion. I feel that the force behind the painting might be such a consciousness, which is why it can determine and manipulate matter. For example, if it only exists within the painting, then it should only be able to control us after we enter the painting. But why can its power also extend into reality?"
"Look, every time we leave a painting, we get an extra ticket to the next art museum we'll enter. Where does this ticket come from? Our pockets are empty before. This ticket, it's also material, isn't it? It's the 'consciousness of the painting' that creates it, letting it into our pockets.
"Also, for example, we can't talk about the things in the paintings to others outside the painting, otherwise we'll go crazy and die. What force decides to make us go crazy? It's the 'consciousness of the painting,' I can't think of any other explanation.
"So, Yiran, I always have a feeling that we're enveloped by some kind of consciousness, like lab rats in a cage. No matter how it torments us, we can't escape its grasp.
"But the scariest thing is... this cage seems to be the world we've always thought was real..."