Li Zhenran is unemployed and has a three-digit bank card balance. Her daughter Li Xiaotang's milk powder is about to run out, and Cat Nian Gao's cat food is only enough for three days. He squatted at the back door of the mahjong parlor and wiped tables for fifteen dollars an hour, and had to avoid the cynicism of his former colleagues. Until one day when the braised food pot was knocked over, the hot soup disappeared out of thin air - and there was an extra cubic meter of storage space in the palm of my left hand. Inanimate objects can be stored in space, but taking them out is like running four hundred meters and making your legs weak from exhaustion. But Li Zhenran smiled: she braised chicken feet late at night, kept them fresh in the space, and delivered takeout during the day; she helped brand customers purchase scarce tobacco and alcohol and earned the price difference. Coupled with the gift of empathy that can sense the emotions of others, it is clear who wants to default on the bill and who is lying. His daughter puts on a new dress, eats imported canned rice cakes, and the eyes of his former colleagues when he comes to the mahjong parlor change from ridicule to jealousy. However, space consumes mental energy, and empathy can leave negative emotions - insomnia, irritability, and even temporary loss of control. What's even more troublesome is that the mahjong parlor owner Song Changgeng seems to know his secret. Jiang Wanting, a regular customer who always wins money, looks at him with more and more meaningful eyes...
