What Lyon sells is the gilded past.
In his studio located in the "fog area" on the seventh floor of Yiguang City, the air is filled with old books, expensive spices and a faint, cold metallic smell that belongs to memory. He had just completed a business - for an aging lady, weaving a memory of her first encounter with her husband, who had long since died of illness, under the cherry blossoms in spring.
The memory was flawless, the speed of falling cherry blossoms, the slight numbness of my fingertips touching each other, and even the wind mixed with the aroma of grass and gooseberries at that moment were all vivid. The lady paid the huge reward and left satisfied, with a girlish glow on her face.
Leon looked at the jumping numbers on the account expressionlessly, and then transferred 90% of it to an account at the "Yiguang City Central Hospital-Special Disease Department". On the light screen, the pale sleeping face of his sister Leah flashed across. Next to the account balance, a row of dazzling red numbers showed: Medical debt: 8,475,000 memory coins. Deadline: 90 calendar days.
