At the age of sixteen, Chen Xiaoman started having the same dream.
In the dream, he was not himself: holding a gray sword, standing in the center of dazzling white light, surrounded by a wall of people whose faces could not be seen clearly. Someone was talking across the water, but he could only hear two words clearly - "this devil".
When I woke up, the pillow was wet and there was a red mark on my palms.
The injuries suffered in the dream will appear on him.
From then on, the days started to leak. The watch that stopped running on the bus, the cracked tiles in the corridor, more and more "excess memories" lingered in his mind. His classmates said he was crazy, and the head teacher wanted to take him to see a doctor. Only his mother squatted in the steam of the breakfast stall, put a paper boat next to his bowl, and said, "Stop thinking nonsense."
He didn't want to think blindly either. But he couldn't tell whether those dreams were illness or another kind of reality.
Everyone said he was sick.
Only what he saw was different from everyone else.
One day, when even my mother starts to waver——
Who went crazy first?
