Ways to Heal the Gods

There is only one rule of care in Cangshan Sanatorium: observe, record, and never understand. Senior caregiver Cheng Jiuyue stayed there for three years until a new visitor, Zhang Sanfeng, was sent. There is only one line on the file: "Self-statement has been through 137 reincarnations. Classification: Undecided." From that day on, the nursing home began to spiral out of control. The blind old woman's scarf predicts death, the sleepless soldier digs out the bones of the Nordic gods, and the little girl who never speaks draws Cheng Jiuyue's face for three years. Zhang Sanfeng said: This is not a medical institution, but the ultimate training ground for the out-of-control gods from all over the world. But Cheng Jiuyue gradually discovered that the real patient might be himself. His memory has been sealed, and there is an unreadable name hidden under the scar on his left hand. And the crazier truth is: the twelve earthly branches are not gods, but the first set of musical instruments made by ancient humans. The frequency of an ensemble of twelve instruments is the true name of an ancient being forgotten for thousands of years. It had been hungry for too long, and what it wanted was not a requiem - someone wanted to feed it a meal. Cheng Jiuyue played the instruments one by one for twelve hours. The drum is hot, the trumpet is salty, and the chime is bitter. The ancient being tasted the taste of thousands of years ago. True healing is not about letting the out-of-control person forget - it is when someone is willing to remember. Then there was a knock on the door of the sanatorium. First time in three years. Outside the door, an ancient being came for a banquet. Cheng Jiuyue's answer will determine the fate of all gods - and who he is.