Grandpa died in a hurry, leaving me a room full of junk, a peeling signboard, and 4,200 yuan in debt.
I thought it was just a secondhand shop on the verge of going under, until I discovered that every old item had a line of writing on it.
The bronze mirror read: [Do not look into this mirror after midnight.]
The silver hairpin read: [Do not give this to a married woman.]
The bronze lock read: [Do not open this on a rainy day.]
If I followed the rules, I got rewarded. I saw through an "antique painting" priced at 80,000 yuan at a glance, and the swindler packed up and ran on the spot. I saw another face beneath the skin of a man with a beaming smile. A porcelain pillow nobody wanted earned me 30,000 yuan when I resold it.
The rules came in three-foot, six-foot, nine-foot, and ten-foot grades. Those who could keep them reaped the rewards; those who couldn't gained a black mark on the back of their hand that would never wash off.
I thought this was just a way to make a fortune.
That was before a man in a gray robe came to collect, saying that everything in this world no one was guarding belonged to them. That was before Fu Jiu, who ran the shop across the street, had five black marks on the back of his hand. He had paid for them with his life.
You want to take my shop? You want to steal my rules?
Then ask me if I'll let you.
Rules are meant to be kept by people. Others keep them to survive. I keep them because I'm going to take this street back from them.
I won't give it up.
Give yourself a five-star☝️(^○^)