In the back alley of the CBD on a rainy night, a mottled wooden door flickered in and out of neon lights. Bai Changfei wiped the bronze compass in front of the counter. The compass needle was spinning strangely around a piece of broken glass - it was a "worthless thing" collected from a drunkard this morning. At this moment, the entire starry sky was reflected in the cracks in the glass.
"The seventh guest, it's time to knock on the door." Ye Fei pushed the soaked Yuqian Longjing in front of him, and when his fingertips brushed against the old clock on the shelf, the pendulum suddenly reversed. This female partner, who always wears a retro windbreaker, can always reveal the customer's obsession three seconds before they knock on the door: Internet celebrity anchor who wants to regain the atmosphere of first love, investment banker elite who wants to eliminate alcohol addiction, e-sports player who wants to cure insomnia...
Their treasure house never carries priced items. Some people exchange ten years of luck for a bowl of noodles that allow them to see their late wife, and some people mortgage their luck for the rest of their lives in exchange for a collar that allows cats to talk. Bai Changfei gradually discovered that every "treasure" Ye Fei handed over had a causal relationship, just like the string of stars and moon Bodhisattva on her wrist that was always missing one. The fragmentary memories about the fire and the key that kept flashing back in her mind seemed to be closely linked to the secret of this store.
When the man in the black suit asked for a pocket watch that could reverse time at the cost of his memory, Bai Changfei finally saw the reflection in the bronze mirror deep in the shelf - behind the two people in the mirror, countless treasure houses in parallel time and space were burning.
