In the year when I was most depressed, I picked up an amnesiac fool on the street. I lied to him that he was my husband, but he believed me and worked seven jobs a day to support me. Later, his memory was restored, and his identity turned out to be the noble prince of Beijing. He returned to his own world. I witnessed the reunion three years later with my own eyes. The fool who was once poured red wine on other people's heads, and said with a gentle smile: "Is it fun?" I ran away quickly, but he stopped me from behind: "Honey, have you lost your memory too?"
