Forgotten Photo Studio

Chapter 3 Incense Pendant (Second Update)

“It’s not about tidying up, it’s about protecting.” Chen Zhiwei’s voice was soft but firm. “No matter how many photos a phone has, no one will remember who it is; but in this cabinet, every name is remembered.”

“Protect? Chen Zhiwei, if I continue like this, I’ll become a ghost too. Seeing dead people every day, sooner or later, I won’t be able to tell if I’m alive or not.”

Chen Zhiwei's eyes suddenly turned cold, like knives scraping against him inch by inch: "You can leave, but Grandpa's promise cannot be broken. Even if I'm the only one left, I will keep it until the end."

The air suddenly froze, and the flame of the eternal lamp flickered, casting two elongated shadows, like silent cracks, lying between the two.

pat.

A sharp crack broke the silence.

Xu Yan suddenly turned his head.

That's the sound of a camera shutter.

The old camera on the counter lay quietly, its red light on, but no one had ever touched it.

The photographic paper slowly emerged, glistening with a wet, silvery-white sheen.

Chen Zhiwei walked over quickly, and the moment the image appeared, she froze.

The image shows her and Xu Yan's backs.

On Xu Yan's shoulder rested a pair of pale hands.

Xu Yan stared at the photo, his Adam's apple bobbing, a shadow rising in his eyes, his voice sounding like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth: "Didn't you say that memories don't fade? Then why can't I ever escape her?"

"Creak" sound.

He turned around and abruptly ripped open the filing cabinet.

The sawdust fell, and a musty smell filled the nostrils.

Flipping the numbers one by one: 2016, 2014, 2010...

His knuckles turned white until he pulled out that faded piece of kraft paper.

Chen Zhiwei's eyes sharpened, and she rushed forward to stop him: "Senior brother, stop, don't open it."

Xu Yan's fingertips paused for half a second, veins bulging, but he still tore open the seal.

The photographic paper scattered on the ground with a "whoosh," like withered leaves, its yellowed edges trembling, emitting a dim light.

Xu Yan knelt there, stunned, her fingers hovering in mid-air, her eyes fixed on the photos.

In the interplay of light and shadow, a girl's blurry profile is revealed, smiling brightly, yet forever frozen in that moment.

Chen Zhiwei leaned down, her voice as soft as the wind, yet as cold as a blunt knife: "...Senior brother, she will never come back."

Xu Yan's fingers remained frozen in mid-air, the photograph on the ground seeming to burn his eyes.

The air inside the ancestral hall froze into ice.

at this time--

"Bang bang bang!"

The knocking sounded suddenly, like a hammer blow to the heart.

Anyone who comes to your door at this time is either a ghost or a nuisance.

"Xu Yan! You haven't paid rent for three months. Either pay today or move out immediately! If you delay any longer, I'll throw all your stuff out!"

His rough, hoarse voice pounded into the room like nails.

The iron gate was pushed open, and the landlord walked in with two tall men.

He wore gold-rimmed glasses, a sharp suit, and an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if deliberately projecting an imposing aura. "This area is going to be demolished soon." He took off his glasses and slowly wiped them with a clean white handkerchief, but his tone was cold and hard to the bone. "If you can't afford the rent, vacate the place as soon as possible to avoid trouble."

Chen Zhiwei looked up, her voice tight: "You just want to kick us out so you can save on demolition compensation? The photo studio's business is bad, and it's all because of your underhanded tactics!"

The landlord chuckled, his gaze shifting from her face to the rows of yellowed old photos on the wall, a cryptic smile playing on his lips.

"Sneaking a dirty trick?" His voice was deep, yet tinged with sarcasm. "This place... is too gloomy, too unlucky! Tear it down as soon as possible! Who would dare to walk into a place like this, where you can photograph 'dead people's shadows'?"

He flicked his finger, preparing to light the fire.

"Don't order it." Xu Yan suddenly spoke, his voice cold but carrying an undeniable sharpness.

The landlord raised an eyebrow, a half-smile playing on his lips: "What, are you going to dictate my cigarettes now?"

Xu Yan stared at him, her eyes as deep as a still pond: "Smoking is not allowed in the photo studio. That's the rule, don't blame me for not reminding you."

The air suddenly tightened.

The landlord's hand froze in mid-air. The lighter clicked, wisps of smoke rising. His lips still held a hint of disdain: "Ha, rules? This is a society governed by law. Your rules, you ghosts and gods, can't scare me."

As he spoke, he habitually tapped the counter with his knuckles to emphasize his point, but his palm inadvertently swept over an old compass covered in verdigris in the corner of the counter.

"Ugh!"

The landlord abruptly pulled his hand back, as if he had been stung by something, or as if he had touched a red-hot iron.

The smug sneer on his face froze instantly, a fleeting but incredibly real look of fear flashing across his face, and he instinctively shook his hand.

"Boss?" a burly man asked hesitantly, his hand unconsciously reaching for the tools tucked into his waistband.

The compass on the counter remained motionless, cold and silent.

The landlord's reaction just now made them uneasy.

Almost instantly, the landlord's fear was replaced by an even more raging rage. As if to cover up his earlier loss of composure, his voice suddenly rose, becoming even sharper and more piercing: "What's the point of you guarding a bunch of dead shadows?"

Before he finished speaking, the ever-burning lamp at the end of the counter suddenly plunged downwards, then burst open with a "poof," shaking violently a few times and scattering the light and shadow throughout the shop, as if countless invisible shadows were frantically flashing on the wall.

The two men who had followed were startled by the commotion and instinctively backed away. One of them, the bolder one, muttered curses and said, "Playing tricks," and reached out to forcefully close the pop-open drawer.

The moment his hand touched the wooden drawer, there was a soft "click," and the drawer seemed to be locked tight, not moving an inch. Instead, he felt as if he had been electrocuted, and his entire arm went numb.

His face turned pale instantly, and he jumped back as if he had been electrocuted, no longer daring to move.

Chen Zhiwei's face immediately turned pale.

She didn't care about the others at all. She practically pounced on them, pushed the photograph back into the drawer, and slammed the cabinet door shut. Her movements were both careful and hurried, as if she were desperately trying to subdue a restless prisoner.

"Oh no..." she murmured, cold sweat beading on her forehead.

He then turned and ran to the ancestral hall, his hands trembling as he checked the incense burner and the eternal lamp, the flames of which were being blown about to go out by the wind.

“He almost knocked over the ‘suppressing object’ just now…” Chen Zhiwei turned around, her voice extremely low but trembling with barely suppressed emotion, “The balance here has been disrupted by his turbid energy… Something bad is going to happen.”

The ever-burning lamp in the ancestral hall suddenly jumped, its flame flickering, and the shadow in the corner of the wall stretched out as if it had come alive.

A rustling sound came from the floor, like countless fingers rubbing against the wooden board.

The air was filled with an indescribable emptiness and coldness, making even breathing feel like being hollowed out.

The faces of the men who had come with the landlord changed drastically. One of them dropped the iron rod in his hand with a clang and retreated while cursing, "Wh...what the hell is that?!"

Chen Zhiwei rushed to the incense burner, hurriedly lit three incense sticks, and said in a hoarse voice, almost pleading, "Rest in peace... Return to your home..."

However, after the three incense sticks were lit, the smoke did not rise gently, but instead seemed to be grasped by an invisible hand, falling heavily and straight down into the incense ash.

(End of this chapter)