At a secondhand market on a rainy night, illustrator Chen Mo picked up a copper pocket watch from the 1920s. When the hands crossed midnight, what appeared on the inside of the watch cover was not the scale, but rows of suspended pavilions - those fantasy buildings that should have existed in the sketchbook, actually flickered and disappeared in the watch mirror like breathing. What's even weirder is that my colleagues suddenly turn into ravens holding keys in their mouths, the female stars on the subway billboards blink their glass-beaded eyes, and the brocade scarf left by my mother is quietly growing moss in the closet. When Chen Mo used a paintbrush to rub the lines of the pocket watch, the paint actually flowed on the canvas into liquid time, revealing the ancient motto "Every mortal is an unactivated magic container". The prism of reality begins to shatter, and he must find the code to prevent the alienation of daily objects in the gap between urban neon and ancient magic - otherwise the next time the pocket watch stops, the magical city in the mirror will swallow the entire reality.
