Definer

There is only one season in Huangtu Town. Dry season. The only piece of paper in the town is posted on a dry poplar at the entrance of the town, with four words written on it: "No writing allowed." When he was six years old, Xu Sanjin traced the four characters on the sand with a stick. The moment he finished the last stroke, there was a light white mark on the little finger of his right hand - all the words that tried to define him from then on would dissipate before touching him. The pursuit of the Paradox Censor, the old civilization buried in the scrapped manuscripts, the written testaments sealed in the bronze cabinet for hundreds of years, the remaining semantic cracks of the "Axis Moment" on the third level - Xu Sanjin followed a dead end road that had been walked by the first twenty "rift holders" until he reached the fifth level that no one had ever stepped into. Each level asked him the same question: Who are you? He is not here to answer this question. Walking between the piles of old papers in the waste manuscripts, the unwritten ink in the valley of waste words, and the crack lines between the pages of the stack of worlds, Xu Sanjin gradually approached the loophole at the bottom of all laws - the existence that created all definitions but wrote its own existence as "undefinable". And everything he did was different from his predecessors: Not finding the answer. I turned around and asked back. Xu Sanjin did not save the world. He did something that made the world finally realize that it was being written. Then he returned to Huangtu Town and sat under the pomegranate tree, waiting for it to bear its first fruit.