In the autumn of 2010, Chen Du, who had graduated from his second degree and had encountered difficulties in finding a job, returned to Lake City and inherited the papermaking shop left by his grandfather.
Before his death, my grandfather only confessed one sentence:
"We are in the business of dead people, and we seek peace of mind for the living. If anyone comes to us in the future, please help if you can, and don't violate your conscience."
Chen Du originally thought that he would just make some paper people and horses, sort out the belongings of the deceased's family, and barely make a living.
Until an old man was buried, the sound of hammering nails could be heard in the empty old house every night; a dead child was hiding in a blind corner of the surveillance camera, repeatedly screaming for pain to the living; in the girls' dormitory that had been dusty for many years, a pair of feet dangling once again appeared under the toilet cubicle...
Only then did Chen Du realize that he could hear the remaining voices of the deceased.
Some of them can't let go of their promises, some carry grievances with them, and some just want to say goodbye to their loved ones properly.
There are also some things that should never be called dead souls.
One rainy night, the blood of the deceased accidentally got on the paper figure. The paper man with no facial features walked down the counter by himself and walked step by step to Chen Du's bedside.
Chen Du thought it was the deceased who had returned.
Lin Jianyue, a corpse makeup artist with yin and yang eyes, stood outside the door and told him with a pale face:
"Don't touch that paper man."
"The deceased you are looking for has been squatting in the corner."
"The one inside the paper man... Isn't her."
