Fooling is a dangerous game.
Take that saying about reading increasing wisdom—at that moment Fu Qian seemed to brush against the traces of a very particular name: Fool.
On a certain snowy night, he had played the role of a young "Mr. Wolf," wandering as a completely ordinary person through one messy carnival scene after another, like he'd stumbled into some cliché horror flick plot.
The transitions in between were a seamless disregard for space and time, and there had been a total of five acts.
Just that single number alone makes it hard not to compare it with the situation right in front of him.
Not to mention that the containment condition for that mission back then was "correctly complete all scripts."
Combined with the heavy notebook in his hand that only had five lines written, with two of those lines being nothing but act numbers with no content, it was really hard to chalk any of this up to pure coincidence.
