A Fool Knows

Out of one hundred thousand people, only eleven came back. Ha Shi lived and died at the age of thirty-one, only then did he realize that the flowers he had planted for ten years were paving a road to his death. When he opened his eyes again, he returned to the spring when he was eighteen years old. The girl in red on the other side of the mountain is still collecting medicine, and a line of blood-red words hangs above her head - [Aduo·Death date: three days]. God gave him a pair of eyes: how many dark cracks there are in the stone, when the knot will loosen, how many days a person has left to live, everything is numbered and he can see through it at a glance. He was alone, with nothing above his head. What's even more cruel is the rule: every time he chases a few miles, he must forget one thing about her. First it was her smile, then her voice, and later, he could barely remember why he wanted to save her. In this life, he doesn't shout, grab, or cry. People in the village still laughed at him for being stupid - a stupid general chatting with cows. He just squatted in the crowd and laughed, and while laughing, he kept the numbers he saw in his bones: the mourning clothes that his brother had prepared for three days, the newly drilled wedge holes in the cliff, the smell of extra stones in the water, the footprints of the army before entering the mountain... He counted them all, but he didn't talk about them. A hundred thousand troops pressed on the border, and the whole village was fleeing. He was the only one walking up the slope. No one knows that there is a net underneath the golden lotus of Manpo; no one knows that this fool has pretended to be deaf and mute for ten years, just waiting to "count" one hundred thousand lives step by step into the place he calculated. The moment she fell off the cliff, the [death date] became a question mark - in this life, can he snatch her back from Shuli? Even if she is snatched back, will he still remember who she is by then? One pair of eyes can count the dates of death of a hundred thousand people, but cannot count the word "love".