Shen Ye, the funeral parlor's keeper, had her salary deducted on a monthly basis by the director, and her face was photographed in public. At the age of twenty-six, she became the most inconspicuous person in the parlor.
One morning at two o'clock, the phone came on. It's not WeChat, it's a push notification with a black background and a gold border that no one has ever sent before, as if someone has swiped a talisman into the screen:
[The underworld takeout system has been bound. Send an order to the next life and earn a day of longevity.
Shen Ye took the job that no one else could hide from. Giving the last journey to the souls that no one remembers, relying on the "praise list" to accumulate moral virtue, and using "cannot read back" to throw back the curator's money-deducting tricks - on the day when the surveillance video was automatically distributed to the entire library, Gu Huaide was in the mood for scolding.
But just when Shen Ye thought he was about to become a millionaire, a line of red text popped up on the system:
[Host Yangshou has been withheld for ten years.
The "body that shouldn't exist" in the underground cold storage area was counting the days for him every second.
He had to give this order to himself.
Reader comments
I also want 100 million. If I have it, I won't go to work.
I also want 100 million. If I have it, I won't go to work.