Reminiscing About the Old Pawn Shop

Shen Mo is a freelance photographer. In a car accident three years ago, his fiancée Lin Wantang was sitting in the passenger seat, and he didn't have time to turn the steering wheel back. For the next three years, I suffered from insomnia, self-blame, and closing my eyes every night. This was the picture of that day. Until one rainy night, he found an inconspicuous pawn shop in the old city - it didn't accept gold or silver, only memories. He pawned the memory of the car accident and got his first peaceful sleep in three years. But the cost goes far beyond the few lines written on the interest clause. Lin Wantang's smile was taken away from all memories and permanently sealed as interest. He remembered her name, but not her face; he remembered loving her, but he couldn't feel any warmth. The old shop owner who has been sitting behind the wooden window for more than 40 years seems to have been waiting for someone. In the warehouse on the third underground floor of the pawn shop, countless pawned memories are breathing quietly. All clues point to one truth - the store itself was built by someone so as not to forget another person. Shen Mo decided to redeem. The price is: use all your love in exchange for all the warmth of memory. Some things are harder to redeem than memories. But there are always people willing to pay the price. ---