Reincarnation of Stars

He died nine times. Each time, the world forgot about him. Shen Zhu couldn't remember how many lives he had lived. I just remember that every time I woke up, my hands were skinless, and my heart was filled with a blue fire. Everyone who remembered him was gone. He was cast into the nine realms by a broken star. Every time one is cast into another life, the memory of everyone in the previous life is erased. It's not that I forgot it, it just never happened. The people he saved don't remember him, the people he loved don't remember him, and even he himself can't remember the order of his life. Only the name will remain. Only those names that are written crookedly, round or straight, will remain. In the first life, he was A Zhuo. Burned in the river of fire for 30,000 years for three hundred years, he burned himself into a cauldron to catch the name of a world. In his second life, he was Shen Wuyi. In the snow pass in the north, he calculated food, built walls, treated injuries, and blocked three thousand cavalry by himself. Until his death, he didn't know whether the person who had spent his whole life for him had gone away alive. In the third life, he is Zhou Qi. I picked up a rotating gear in the rubbish mountain in the Rust World, and figured out that the tower was burning people instead of coal, so I connected myself to the main control furnace. In the fourth life, he was Qimu. A mute knitted the medicine of eighteen generations of witch doctors into a rope. He burned himself into a knot and hung it at the end of the rope book. That knot has no name. The person guarding him has never understood it in his life. Wood, water, fire, metal, earth, darkness, death, emptiness, and chaos are the nine swallowed names. Every time he woke up, he was in a new hell. He didn't know why he was still walking. All he knew was that the fire in his heart was too cold. It was so cold that it should be fire.