On the day Lao Zhou retired, he moved a box of files to my used bookstore.
"After thirty years of suppression, it's not that it can't be broken, it's that it can't be broken."
He has been a detective for half his life. This box is full of personal transcripts written by the parties concerned, report receipts, and photos of the scene—every page is trembling.
I run a bookstore, an ordinary person, and I am only responsible for organizing.
The people in the file are just like you and me: delivery people, girls in shared apartments, night shift nurses, drivers on the night journey. There is no halo of the protagonist, no master of magic, only the most real fear and the most powerless escape.
Some people are missing, some are crazy, and some people still dare not turn off the lights to sleep.
Lao Zhou said that these things are not ghosts, but human hearts.
Open this file and you will see——
The call bell rang at three o'clock in the morning, but the bed was empty;
Money wrapped in red string on the roadside, whoever picks it up will die;
The person in the mirror is half a beat faster than you.
Every story comes from the personal experience of ordinary people.
It's so real that you feel like - maybe, it's happening around you.
"Taboo No. 1: When I call your name in the middle of the night, don't look back."
"You never know, there is something out there that you can't see, staring at you."
(This story is purely fictional and aims to promote positive energy and oppose feudal superstition.)
