Welcome to the madhouse. Following the rules is the only way to survive.
Chen Du is a patient with hyperamnesia - he can't forget anything, including the eye that suddenly opened on the screen of his mobile phone at 3:33 in the morning. Three hundred million people around the world were forced to receive the "Ten Temples Asylum" app at the same time, which could not be deleted or rejected. He was pulled into the first clinic building, and a rule card automatically appeared in his pocket: blood must be blue, there is no fifth floor in this building, and if you see a nurse in red, please turn around immediately.
Each temple is a self-consistent logic of death. Follow the rules and die. Break the rules and die. The real way to survive is in the cracks of the rules—you have to understand them and then break them from the inside.
In the second herbarium, he encountered fragments of sleeping objects - teeth, nails, hair, and skin. She failed to pass the first hall and was dismantled into a specimen in the lunatic asylum. Her name was locked in a coffin in the fourth hall and shouted SOS for thirty years. Chen Du pieced her back piece by piece, at the cost of having his memory, pain, and sense of time wiped out.
The lunatic asylum is using rules to process patients, turning living people into sources of pollution. But it didn't expect that when two people who had been torn into pieces were put back together, something that the rules couldn't digest would grow - temperature. Thirty-six degrees seven. One degree warmer than the inner walls of an asylum.
At the end of the ten halls, Chen Du must face each version of himself in the first nine halls: the lawful one, the self-destructive one, the one who saves people, the one who recycles fragments, the one who is fried together... He wants to get through them all. But what the lunatic asylum really wanted was never his clearance, but the fever-producing thing produced after he and Shen Mian were sutured.
Concept: The lunatic asylum uses rules to tear people into pieces, but when the pieces are put back together, something grows that cannot be calculated by the rules - temperature. Thirty-six degrees seven, one degree warmer than the cold order. This incalculable degree is man's total victory over the rules.