What I Wrote Is Really Not an Autobiography.

[One sentence introduction] After being an ordinary person for thirty-five lives, he decided to be himself. [General introduction] Wang Ping, 27 years old, has a monthly salary of 6,000, raises cats, and squats on the roadside to eat barbecue. His greatest achievement in life is getting a B in performance appraisal for three consecutive years. Until he received a photo - more than thirty "Wang Pings" stood together and smiled at him. Until his cat sat facing north for ten minutes at 11:03 every night on time. Until he pushed open the rusty iron door of Qingshan Park and discovered that there was a world outside the door, and inside the door, there was a name that had been waiting for him for almost twenty years. "You are not Wang Ping." Someone told him, "You are the thirty-fifth." The first thirty-four were all dead. And the rusty iron ring in his hand was getting hot. "Unbounded true self" has recognized the Lord. Ability: See through all lies, immune to all control. He is not a hero. He is just an ordinary person who has forgotten who he is, but his body still remembers how to fight. Now, he takes a cat, seven problem children, a copper key and two uneaten skewers to close a door that can never be closed. Behind the door is something called "Nothing". Inside the door is a person who has turned himself into the door. This novel is really not an autobiography. But you can serve it as a BBQ side dish and watch it while eating.