I Pay the Ghost Every Day at the Convenience Store Late at Night

My name is Chen Mo. After graduating from college, I worked for half a year and then took a night shift at a convenience store in the old city. My monthly salary was 6,000, including room and board. On the day I joined the company, the store manager only gave me ten rules for the night shift and said with a cold face: If I break one, I will die in the store. I just thought the boss was playing tricks on me, until the wind chimes rang for the first time at midnight The old lady in a shroud handed over the coins and asked for Coca-Cola on the third floor of the freezer; the little girl with pigtails held the boy in her hands and cried to put it in the third row by the window to wait for her mother; a shadowless woman in red stood at the door, staring at me quietly. Only then did I realize that this store was not for living people at all. The previous clerks all disappeared, and the diaries they left behind were written in blood: Don't trust Daochang Zhao who comes to your door. The Coke on the third floor of the freezer has a production date of ten years ago. I guarded the rules and the cashier, and slowly discovered that those "customers" all had obsessions. What was entangled in the foundation of the convenience store was an old grudge from the Republic of China that had been buried for decades. At midnight every day, the rolling shutter door is pulled down halfway and business begins. Who will be the next person to come through the door? This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.