Hanging Lead

In Shanghai in the 15th year of the Republic of China, six million clocks were running at the same time. Shen Jingyan came back from England and inherited the watch shop left by her father. She thought that the rest of her life would be spent repairing clocks and being ordinary. Until an old man named Zhou Rong sent a music box. There were seven gears hidden in the box, as well as eight words left by his father: "Return to original owner. Repair, etc." What are you waiting for? Who are you waiting for? From that day on, her life was involved in a huge mystery, including dragon veins, Mohist organs, a hundred thousand scrolls, and bloodline keys. There is also the Hanging Temple hanging above the clouds, like a suicide note left by the previous dynasty to future generations, silently waiting for someone to open it. Here comes Gu Yunshen, a suspended patrolman with an old scar under his Adam's apple. He said he just wanted to investigate the case, but he went a long way with her without knowing it. Ananda came. A young man came down from the Hanging Temple, barefoot, holding a painting, and said, "The temple is crying." He said that his mother asked him to protect her for the rest of his life. Here comes Rong Yudie, a princess from the former dynasty, a woman who wants to use dragon veins to lift Shanghai into the sky. She said that she had been hating for fifteen years, but later found that hating was useless. There is also Lao Chen, Xiao Zhou, Lu Huaian, and Uncle Chen. All waiting. Waiting for an answer, waiting for a person, waiting for a peaceful day. This is a story about waiting. About those who repair clocks, those who paint, those who engrave letters, and those who make dumplings. About those who walk, wait, and live in time. The clock is still running. The gears are still turning. The almond blossoms are still falling. They are waiting. And you?