Terror at the Pawnshop

I took a deep breath and put my hand on the doorknob, only to find my palm slick with cold sweat. The moment I pushed the door open, a chill surrounded me. I looked closely: behind the counter sat a box as large as a pitch-black coffin! Neon lights flickered faintly, stretching the sleeping shadows on the street into long shapes. In the dead of night, Longfa Pawnshop was still lit. It was the only place on the entire street that hadn't closed. Behind the door, a young man in a long gown, holding a tobacco pipe, was studying a pile of account books on the counter. "Young Master, why don't we head back for tonight? It's getting late." I heard