He Wrote

Shen Yan is a writer. He makes a living by collecting folklore stories online and writing them down. He has a manuscript that he has been writing for a long time. Each story in the manuscript is weirder than the last: a paper man with no eyes, a wedding that doesn't go to the church, and a Ghost Festival that doesn't look back. Every story has a rule, every rule is broken, and every person who breaks the rule dies. But Shen Yan was not sure whether he wrote these stories or whether he "remembered" them. He is also not sure who he is. There was one name written on his ID card, another in his cell phone address book, and yet another signature on his manuscript. And the scars on his body don't belong to any name. The doctor said he was sick. He felt so himself. But there is a line between illness and reality. He stood on the line, turned a little to the left, and saw the story. Turn a little to the right and what you see is "Him". Every time he writes a story, he dies. Every time you die, you forget something. He must keep writing. Because if he doesn't write, He will write for him. This book is his manuscript. The book in your hand is the final draft. He has already written the first sentence: "I'm already dead. To be precise, I should be dead." You can read. But he advises you not to turn the page. But you know you can turn it.