Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit

When he woke up, he remembered nothing except that the orange in his hand was sweet. The instructor told him that his name was "Stranger" and his daily tasks were to eat fruit, observe the twenty cells on both sides of the corridor, and record his feelings. But he didn't know that this was the three hundred and forty-eighth time he had woken up. Every time he loses his memory, his memory will be completely extracted and put into another body; every time it goes through the cycle, he will go to the end of the corridor and push a wall that cannot be pushed open with his right hand. He thought he was looking for an exit, but he didn't know that there were three hundred and forty-seven of him standing on the other side of the wall - each one carrying a part of his life that was taken away from him. And the mentor who always wore a white coat and called him "stranger" was waiting for him to ask that question every day: "Have you tried it?" When the truth is revealed, when copies of memories climb up from the ground, and when twenty "Li Fangs" shout out their names at the same time - he must face a problem more cruel than amnesia: If a person can be repeatedly cleared, copied, and restarted, then who exactly is "I"? Oranges are not the only fruit. You're not the only one either.