At 11:50 in the middle of the night, the old streets in Jiangcheng City's West District were deserted.
The street lights flickered on and off, illuminating the peeling wall like the wrinkles on an old man's face. The wind passed through the narrow alley, making a whining sound, picking up the dead leaves and paper money ashes on the ground. This street has another name - "Yin Yang Street". During the day, people come and go selling incense candles and paper money. At night, especially after midnight, it is a different scene.
The penultimate shop at the end of the street has an ebony plaque hanging on the lintel, with three faded gold seal characters on it: Feng Shui Shop.
There were no lights on in the shop, and it was pitch dark inside. I sat on the Taishi chair behind the counter and could clearly hear my own heartbeat. The old-fashioned wall clock on the wall was ticking, and the minute hand was approaching the twelve o'clock position step by step.
Eleven fifty-five.
I stood up and walked to the door of the shop. There is a piece of yellow paper stuck on the inside of the glass door, with business hours written in cinnabar on it: Zishi-Yinshi (23:00-5:00). Ordinary people would probably frown when they saw this, thinking that the boss was either a lunatic or a liar. But they don't know that some business can only be done during this time period.
My surname is Chen, and my single name is the word silent. This shop was passed down from my grandfather. Before he died, he took my hand and said, "Xiao Mo, you have to guard this shop. Some things have to be taken care of."
I didn't understand it at the time, and it wasn't until after that incident happened three years ago that I understood what "something" meant.
Eleven fifty-eight.
I reached for the light switch next to the door, but there was no
