The rain washed the old bluestone slabs in the back alley of the museum until they glowed coldly.
It was almost one o'clock in the morning when He Anran locked the side door. The wooden box containing the repair tools in his hand was wet at the corners, just like his life that was always uneven - there were always some places that were incompatible with this world.
The afterimage of the bloody jade in the afternoon was still flashing before my eyes. Fire, so much fire, and the weight of falling. The moment his fingertips touched the jade, he could almost hear the "sizzling" sound of burning skin and flesh, and a very light sigh, suppressed by countless screams.
"Are you in a daze again?" Security guard Zhang handed him a public umbrella, deliberately keeping his hands away from him, "Go back quickly, the rain won't stop for a while."
He Anran took the umbrella and thanked him in a low voice. When he turned around, he heard Lao Zhang lowering his voice to the person on duty: "That's the one... Master He who said he could see unclean things when he was a child. He was stunned when he was cultivating antiquities and cultivating demons. He spent a long time talking to an empty chair last time..."
The sound of rain swallowed up the second half of the sentence, but He Anran heard every word clearly. Over the past twenty-five years, I have become accustomed to hearing it.
He turned into an old alley and took a shortcut. This area is about to be demolished, and the residents have moved here and there, leaving only a few slanted old houses standing silent in the rain. Two street lights were broken, and the remaining one had poor contact and flickered on and off.
Then he saw the light.
Purpose: redemption