The used goods warehouse in the northwest corner of the community is the "forgotten corner" of the entire Hepingli community.
The red paint on the iron door peeled off to only scattered fragments, and half a dead leaf was stuffed in the keyhole, as if someone had deliberately left a mark. The warehouse is not big, with a depth of only five meters, but there are piles of nearly twenty years of time - a Peony sewing machine from 1998, with a piece of floral cloth still stained on the pedal; a Nokia slider phone from 2005, with the charging port rusted and blocked by mud; a balance car from 2018, with flat tires, but its taillights turn on by themselves on full-moon nights, spinning warm yellow light in circles.
The property has had three managers, and every time a notice to clean out the old warehouse is posted, it is always torn down by someone. The key to the warehouse is kept by Grandma Zhang, the oldest in the community. The old woman always says: "These things have body temperature. If you throw them away, you will cry."
No one believed this except Lin Xiaoman, a property intern who had just joined the company.
