Gu Nian's biggest skill in this life is that it is useless.
Two years after graduation, I changed jobs five times, was laid off during my probationary period, and my savings were at the bottom. I went back to my hometown to guard the temple for my grandfather. Just after the first seven days, the first business came to my door - a tea room god who had been pushed to his work station by the "god of getting off work on time" squatted on the threshold and said that he wanted to file a labor arbitration.
These days, gods will also lose their jobs, temples will be demolished, and people will forget about it.
Grandpa left him an old book called Nianbu. Every time he accomplished something and added a name to the book, he lost a piece of himself in his mind. He didn't know why his grandfather had crossed out the thirty-seventh page of the book with his pen, nor did he know how many sticks of incense the old landowner who squatted at the alleyway watching the lights for him could hold on to.
He only remembered one sentence: Those who are remembered will never disappear.
So Gu Nian, the waste that was rejected by this city, began to deliver a message to the lost god, to send a "he's here" to the spirit that had been waiting for many years, and to write the names back into the book one by one for those who were almost forgotten.
