As soon as Qifan's fingertips touched the rusty pocket watch, the clocks on the street corner suddenly turned upside down.
As a restorer of old objects, he should have been used to something wrong with the things in his hands - the Republic of China storybook that can continue to write its own ending, and one more character dies every time he repairs it; the bronze mirror that can reflect the corpse ten years later shows that he has half a short knife stuck in his chest.
But this time is different.
The moment the pocket watch gears clicked to a halt, words in blood automatically appeared on Cangnan's black notebook: [Rule 1: At three o'clock in the evening, you are not allowed to respond to the knock on the door].
Yun Zhi in a white coat held up a detector and chased after him. The red ripples on the screen made people's eyes hurt: "Qifan, you have triggered a new rule again. As mentioned above, 'women wearing red shoes must give way', seventeen people have died."
Qifan looked at the word "0" engraved on the inside of his pocket watch, his Adam's apple rolling. He knew that these rules were all pointing to him, just like in the bleeding mirror, countless "selves" were staring across time and space.
