Lin Jiang has been working the night shift for seven years. At three o'clock in the morning, the platform sent an order.
Passenger's name: Lin Jianguo - his father died six years ago.
The location is a convenience store that I have never seen before. It is opened in the place where Shaxian snacks used to be. The glass door handle is wrapped with a knot used on coffins.
He met Su Wan at the door who had also received a strange order.
The two pushed the door open and found that what was on the shelves was not merchandise, but the past that everyone couldn't let go of: an old invoice, a bowl of noodles with scallion oil, and a lighter with the words "keep it on" engraved on it. The shadow behind the cashier leaned forward slightly, as if confirming receipt.
"The noodles are ready, while they are hot."
Lin Jiang finally understood that this store only accepts one method of payment - using your most precious memory in exchange for your qualification to continue living.
The status of his and Su Wan's orders has already been defaulted by the system: delivered and cannot be refused.
