At 3:17 in the morning, just as the city's neon lights were extinguished by the morning fog, there was a knock on Chen Yan's security door.
"Dong dong dong."
The sound was very soft, like someone rubbing their fingernails against the door panel, but it hit his eardrums accurately - this was the 28th time he heard a knock on the door at the same time. As the night shift administrator of the Folklore Archives, Chen Yan always receives some "strange" files: there are silhouettes walking backwards in the mirrors of old houses in the Republic of China, talisman written with blood seeping from the cracks in the walls of demolition areas, the last carriage of the last subway train is always empty, but the footsteps of leather shoes can be heard...
Until the 29th knock on the door, he opened the door and saw a woman in a white dress standing in the corridor, her face as white as rice paper, holding a yellowed old newspaper in her hand. The headline read: In 1943, there was a fire in the Chengxi Theater, no one survived. And the woman's name, Su Wan, was prominently listed.
