Back then, Qiao An lived right across from my house. He loved setting up his camera tripod out front in the evening, when the sky glowed red, and pointing the lens toward the setting sun. Every day, when Mom came home from work and saw him, she'd smile and say to me, "Look, we have an artist living across the street."
The windows of our house faced east, so I could no longer see the red sunset hanging among the tree branches. Qiao An stopped photographing sunsets, too. But later, I noticed that he'd set up his tripod again. This time, he was taking pictures of the sunrise. I suddenly remembered a time when Mom and I had moved across from a pawnshop. The owner used to repeat the same words every day: "One thing for another. It's always fair."
"One thing for another. It's always fair" was the code phrase of the Ghost Valley Pawnshop.
That year, three children were sent to the Ghost Valley Pawnshop, and from that moment on, their fates changed. The price of changing their destinies was aging and the rearrangement of their memories. Once one of them began searching for the truth, the fire of hatred spread through the entire dark world. For the first time, a blazing sun rose over Ghost Valley's night. It was an omen of death.
