This Body Is Like a Prisoner

A message to readers Do you believe in time travel? If one day you wake up and find that you are a descendant of the Three Kingdoms family, knowing the fire of Chibi, the wind of Wuzhangyuan, and the fate of everyone - you will feel that you are the chosen one, right? I thought so too. Until I discovered that everything I knew could not be said. Every time I try to change something, I get a splitting headache and bleeding from my mouth and nose, as if a hand is grabbing my throat. This world does not allow me to speak. I changed my name and hid in the Xiandeng camp, like a mad dog crawling out of the dead. I thought that this way I could forget the past and those names - Liu Bei, Zhuge Liang, Jiang Wei, and her. But I can't forget it. Someone is looking for me. He brought a few rolls of yellowed bamboo slips with my own handwriting on them. What it writes is another person's life: the autumn wind in Wuzhangyuan, the twilight in Baidi City, an old man holding my hand and saying, "You are not a minister, you are my friend." I thought I was a time traveler. I thought I was from the future. I thought I knew everything. I have no idea. I don't know what's under that locust tree. I don't know why that jade pendant is in my arms. I don't know that this house is not a home. It's a cage. This is the seventh time I've woken up. I forgot the first six times. There are ninety-three more to come. Every time, I would start over, fall in love with the same person again, watch her die in my memory again, and return under this tree again. You ask me why I wrote this story? Because I want you to remember. Remember this life