First One

On the day his mother was buried, He Wang counted four hundred and seventy-one raindrops. He remembers everything in the world - who said what at which table, his mother's cough when she called for the last time, the position of every cup in the old house. Twenty years later, nothing has changed. The only thing he couldn't remember was his childhood. That notebook is not my mother's. The handwriting has changed a dozen times, and the latest page is his handwriting, which he does not remember writing. Turning to the first page, there is only one sentence: **If you see this, it means I woke up again. The townspeople were too polite to him. No one asked him how he had been over the years, and no one mentioned how many people had died in that building. Later he realized: the whole town had promised not to tell him. He survived because of another thing - ghosts have rules. Find it and you can lock it up. This is what he does best. But no one told him the price. Every time he understood a rule, he grew one step closer to the ghost. Everyone says he can end the age of supernatural beings. He thought so too. Until he saw that half-slowed expression in the mirror. That's not him. - He cannot remember his childhood. Because He was not born, but made. And that practice has been passed down for twelve hundred years.