Huihun Lane, which has not been touched for a century, is hidden in the folds of the urban demolition area. The wooden door of the old house No. 37 Always makes a dull sound at midnight - not the wind, but the sound of nails scraping against the wood. Lin Yan, a newly unemployed girl, rented this place to avoid debts, only to find that every window faced the fire scene in 1943. There was a shadow wearing a cheongsam locked in the attic mirror cabinet, and the clause in the rental contract that "the tenant shall not respond to knocks after three o'clock in the morning" was being crushed by the increasingly urgent knocks on the door. When she dug out the seventh skeleton wearing the same copper bracelet under the floor, she finally understood: this house never rents, only "substitutes".
