No Crows Under the Lamp

There is a disease in this city that steals people's lives. The flood steals attention, the fire steals hope, the wind steals name - the person who has been stolen is unaware of it, until one morning, he finds that he has forgotten the most important thing, and there is a crow on his shoulder. People all over the city are forgetting things, and only the lamp-bearer remembers everyone's accounts. There are nine remaining lamps, forty-three are about to be extinguished and fifty-six are empty - the lamps are accounts, and each one records the day a colleague was escorted in. The new person in charge. He can suppress the plague with the palm of his hand, and he can calm the crows in the city by raising his lamp; he recovers the stolen days for others, at the cost of burning a piece of his own memory for every person he saves. He remembered everyone's accounts in this city, but he couldn't remember who he was. Until one day he discovered that the wordless seal in the thirteenth box of the seal box was engraved with his name.