Lin Ye worked as a data calibrator for seven years, pressing the delete button every day to erase graffiti, poems, and memories that "should not exist."
There is a rattan-shaped scar on his left arm that feels hot every night. In the dream, someone shouted and ran away, and the voice was so broken that it felt like someone was strangled by the throat. He couldn't remember who it was.
Until one day on the street corner, someone in the shadows held up a rattan star.
Seven years separated him from him, and the man stood at the window of the abandoned attic, calling him over and over again at a frequency that only each other could hear:
"Where the Vine Star returns, it is hidden in the truth."
Later, Lin Ye found out that someone had been waiting for him underground for six years.
Use a vine star that is exactly the same as him, use a code engraved in the bones and blood, and use all the tenderness that was erased in the early Yuan Dynasty but never really extinguished.
Concept: Perfect dead silence is not as good as imperfect heartbeat
