The cold light of the convenience store freezer is his time scale.
When Shen Zhao woke up in the morgue for the 43rd time, the red rope on his wrist had been cut into his bones. God never told him that the price of reversing time was to cut out the flesh and blood of memory - the first time he lost her voice, the third time he forgot the fragrance of magnolia, and the seventh time he could no longer taste the sweetness of honey.
This reincarnation is anchored in the beginning of summer 2018. The cracks in the merit box in front of the temple are still seeping with rainwater, the red string on her ponytail is still loose, and the old lady at the glutinous rice ball stall is still making change. But Shen Zhao saw details that he hadn't noticed last time: half a gastric cancer diagnosis certificate was buried in the ashes of the incense burner, there was a recording pen hidden in the middle of her schoolbag, and the surveillance camera in the back alley of the KTV actually had a red light on.
Every time the light is traced, the error is corrected, but the ending is closer to the abyss. The 12th time he blocked the steel pipe for her, and she died on the operating table; the 27th time he exposed the conspiracy in advance, but she collapsed and committed suicide because her mother was seriously ill; the 39th time he finally let the murderer go to jail, but in the courtroom he heard the bailiff whisper: "That kid is crazy, always saying that he is in a time loop."
For the 43rd time, Shen Zhao squatted at the temple gate chewing moldy glutinous rice balls. The honey rotted into the taste of rust in the mouth, and the red rope of the wrist suddenly burst. This time, he decided to point the tip of the knife at the gods in the void - or at himself who was hiding in the shadows of the bus stop in the midsummer of 2018 and not daring to step forward.
Purpose: To commemorate the deceased and heal the regrets in the heart through creation