Susan's hand was still resting on the metal sheet, her fingertips stained with dark blue paint. She was about to apply the first layer of base color when her wrist flicked, and the entire metal sheet tilted half an inch, sliding off the stand and crashing to the ground with a thud.

She didn't move or speak, just stared at the metal plate lying on the ground. This was the third time. The first two times, the frame she had erected in the middle of the night collapsed on its own, knocking over two buckets of wet paint. This time was even worse; the main structure fell apart as soon as it was erected, the rivet holes were misaligned, the screws couldn't be tightened, and finally the entire piece tilted and fell, shaking the workshop floor.

Her shoulders ached so much she could barely lift them, and her eyes were sore, but her mind was still racing. She knew where the problem lay—the center of gravity was too high, and the base was too light. But changing the base would disrupt the smooth lines. What she wanted was that feeling of suspended in mid-air, like the wind was carrying it, not being firmly nailed to the ground.

Footsteps came from the doorway. Karl walked in, carrying a roll of alloy strips. He glanced at the wreckage on the ground, then at the design drawings on the wall, paused for two seconds, and said, "Your structure won't hold up."

Susan looked up. "I know I can't hold on, but I'm not doing an engineering report."

“But it has to stand up to be considered an exhibit.” Carl put down the materials, squatted down and picked up a twisted piece of metal. “With your current shape, the center of gravity is shifted by more than fifteen degrees, and the bottom bearing area is small. Let alone vibration, even a gust of wind will make it fall over.”

"Then what do you suggest we do? Weld it into an iron block?"

“We can reinforce the base and replace it with heavier support materials.” Carl stood up and pulled up a set of data projections from his wrist interface. “I have several load-bearing models of common sculpture structures here. Based on your size, I suggest using a triangular distributed base, combined with internal steel beams for cross support.”

Susan frowned. "If you do that, the whole scene will be dead."

“A picture?” Karl glanced at her. “This is a 3D installation, not a painting.”

“It’s the same for me.” She stood up and rubbed her lower back. “What I need is a sense of breathing, not rock-solid stability.”

Carl didn't argue. Instead, he walked to the wall and carefully examined the design drawings. He then looked down at the scattered parts and suddenly said, "You actually don't want it to 'stand' like that, do you?"

Susan was taken aback.

“You want it to look like it’s floating.” Carl pointed to a dotted line at the edge of the sketch. “The part of this cantilever that extends out has no actual support points, which means you intended to abandon the traditional column structure from the beginning.”

Susan didn't say anything, but her eyes changed.

Carl continued, "You don't lack technical solutions, you lack implementation methods. Your current approach is forcing something that shouldn't be implemented to be implemented, of course it will crash."

A burst of laughter came from outside the workshop. Chen Hao poked his head in, an energy bar dangling from his mouth. "What's going on? Was there an earthquake or a fight?"

“The sculpture collapsed.” Susan leaned against the table, her voice a little hoarse. “I’ve tried three times already, and each time it collapsed as soon as it was set up.”

Chen Hao walked in, circled the wreckage on the ground, and clicked his tongue. "It's definitely not very stable. But does this thing have to stand up?"

"What do you mean?" Susan looked at him.

“I mean,” Chen Hao took a bite of his energy bar, “what if it shouldn’t be standing in the first place? Like… hanging? tilted? Or just lying on the ground so everyone can see it from above?”

Susan's eyes lit up.

Carl shook his head: "Hanging requires a top load-bearing structure, but the ceiling here is a movable panel, so heavy objects cannot be hung on it. If it is placed at an angle, the visual center of gravity will be off, affecting the overall expression."

“Then let only part of it touch the ground,” Susan suddenly said, “like the moment before it falls.”

“Dynamic equilibrium?” Karl raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” She walked quickly to the whiteboard, picked up a marker and began to draw. “The base is reduced in size, leaving only one fulcrum. The main body is tilted forward, but it is fixed by a cable at the back, creating tension. It is not standing firmly, but being pulled back.”

Carl stared at the sketch for a few seconds. "Theoretically, it's feasible. But the cables must be hidden, otherwise it will ruin the aesthetics. And the material strength needs to be recalculated."

"Can you figure it out?"

“Yes,” Carl nodded. “But you have to accept two conditions: first, use high-strength carbon fiber rope instead of metal support; second, add a counterweight to the base, even if you can’t see it.”

"Anything is fine as long as it doesn't affect the appearance."

"Nana!" Chen Hao called out to the door, "Come help me record this! This is something worth noting!"

Nana pushed the door open and came in, holding a recorder in her hand. "How many times has it been rebuilt?"

“The fourth time.” Susan erased the old drawing and re-outlined the shape on the whiteboard. “This time, I’m not going for symmetry or stability. I want it to look like it could fall over at any moment, but it just keeps going.”

"Does art seek a sense of danger?" Na pointed the camera at the sketch.

“Planets aren’t always stable.” Susan looked down and drew lines. “They crack, bulge, erupt, and then slowly heal. This isn’t a static landscape; it’s a process.”

Carl had already begun adjusting the model. His robotic arm deployed a micro-terminal, inputting parameters, and the 3D projection slowly rose. A tilted metal structure took shape in mid-air, with a thin line connecting it to a high anchor point, and a small lead block embedded in a groove in the base at the bottom.

“The simulation is complete,” he said. “It will not overturn in winds below force 8, and the impact test has been passed. The cable diameter is 0.5 millimeters, and it is coated with matte black, making it almost invisible to the naked eye.”

Susan leaned closer to look. "This is it."

“I’ll prepare the materials.” Karl put away the projector. “We have plenty of carbon fiber rope in stock. The counterweights need to be processed, and that should be done within two hours.”

“I’ll help you,” Nana said. “And we can test the strength of the new batch of adhesive while we’re at it.”

Chen Hao patted Susan on the shoulder, "Go wash your face, don't faint. I'll come and watch after you've finished setting it up."

He turned and left, muttering to himself, "I've never been this nervous even when I failed an exam before."

Susan didn't chase after him. She sat on a small stool in the corner, staring blankly at the new sketch. Her hands were still trembling, but her mind was clear. It wasn't that she couldn't do it; it was that she had been trying to do the right thing in the wrong way.

Carl and Nana brought over the new frame and reassembled it in the open space. Carbon fiber ropes were threaded through pre-drilled holes in the metal plates, with the other end secured to anchor bolts embedded in the corner of the wall. The base was filled with molten lead, cooled, and then polished smooth, making the extra weight completely invisible.

During the first attempt to erect the structure, it wobbled three times before finally coming to a stop.

“The angle is off by two degrees.” Carl adjusted the cable length.

The second time, the tilt was more obvious, but the overall situation remained stable.

“Loosen it a little more,” Susan observed from the side, “to give it more of a forward-rushing feel.”

Karl made minor adjustments, and the price rose for the third time.

The metal plate slowly rose, tilting forward at about thirty degrees, like a piece of debris about to be lifted off the ground. The cables disappeared into the shadows, and the base was close to the ground, but only in contact with it. The entire device seemed to be pulled by some invisible force, hanging on the verge of collapse.

“It’s done.” Susan approached and gently touched the edge. It trembled slightly, but didn’t fall over.

“It can be tilted another five degrees,” Carl said. “The maximum angle is thirty-five degrees. Any further and we’ll need to add a second cable.”

“No need,” Susan shook her head. “This angle is perfect. It’s like it’s about to move in the next second, but then it stops.”

Nana filmed the entire process and suggested the title: "The Era of Imbalance".

“That works too.” Susan smiled. “Or you could call it ‘About to Fall’.”

“That sounds like my life situation.” Chen Hao returned at some point, carrying two bottles of nutrient solution. “Karl, you’re amazing. You can actually think like an artist.”

“I just solve problems.” Carl checked the last seam. “She sets the goal, I provide the path.”

“But you never cared about these things before.” Susan looked at him. “I thought you thought art was a waste of time.”

“I don’t comment on the significance of the creation,” Carl said, putting away his tools. “But I respect the process of completion. You work for thirty hours straight, not for fun.”

Susan didn't speak, but looked down and saw that the paint under her nails hadn't been washed off. She suddenly felt a little tired, but also a sense of relief.

"Setup will begin tomorrow." Nana closed the recorder. "The power supply for the exhibition area has been confirmed, and the monitoring lines will avoid the main passageway so as not to affect the flow of visitors."

“I’m in charge of the transport,” Carl said. “This piece must be handled manually, and the vibration must be kept below level three.”

"I'll oversee the scene." Chen Hao finished the last sip of the nutrient solution, crushed the bottle, and threw it into the recycling bin. "Anyone who dares to touch it will experience what true imbalance is like."

Susan picked up a marker and wrote a few lines on the back of the new sketch. These were preliminary ideas for the next few pieces, all asymmetrical, suspended, and tensile structures. Without looking up, she simply said softly, "Next time, I want to try something bigger."

Carl glanced at her. "Just tell me your needs, and I'll have a solution."

"Then you'll be very busy."

She folded the sketch and stuffed it into her pocket, her knees making a slight sound as she stood up.

Chen Hao patted her arm and said, "Go eat first, don't turn yourself into scrap metal."

Nana has already started organizing the spare materials, categorizing and arranging the excess alloy strips.

Carl stood beside the projector, tapped his finger, and brought up the next structural simulation interface.

The workshop lights were still on, and four figures moved on the wall.

Susan untied her apron and discovered a hole in the cuff.

She tore off a piece of tape and wrapped it around the tip of the broken metal bracket.