Ferryman of Souls · Conversa

When the door pushed open, the wind chimes rang three times. Xia Dongqing stood at the entrance of Convenience Store 444, clutching a crumpled printout in his hand—he had sent out twenty-seven resumes online, and only this place called him for an interview. Night shift clerk, daily pay, includes a midnight snack. He glanced at the house number: 444, four fours. The old man across the street had just shouted at him: "Young man, that shop is eerie; no one dares to go near it at night." Dongqing dismissed this as the superstition of the elderly. The lights in the store were unnaturally bright. The shelves were stocked with common snacks and drinks, but no one was behind the cash register. He called out "Hello," and from the end of the aisle came the sound of shuffling slippers. A man in a black leather jacket walked out, about thirty years old, with an indescribable coldness in his eyes. The corners of his eyes turned up slightly, as if he were looking at prey. He sized Dongqing up and down, his mouth twitching slightly: "Xia Dongqing?" "Yeah." "Starting today, from 10 PM to 6 AM, you're here." The man tossed over a blue convenience store uniform. "Don't ask too many questions, don't meddle, and don't cause trouble." "Are you the boss?" "Zhao Li." He turned to walk toward the back room, stopped after two steps, and said without looking back, "No matter what kind of person you see coming in tonight, just serve them normally. Charge them what they owe, give them their change." Dongqing thought this was strange. What kind of person? Who could there be at this hour? At 11:30 PM, Dongqing was dozing off on the cash register. The wind chimes rang again. He looked up. A woman stood at the door, wearing a red dress, her hair soaking wet, water droplets dripping from the tips. Her face was as white as paper, but her lips were a purplish red. Dongqing instinctively said, "Welcome," and then noticed that where she had walked, the floor was perfectly dry—no water droplets, not a single footprint. She walked toward him, closer and closer, closer and closer. Dongqing's pupils suddenly constricted. The woman's heels were not touching the ground. She was walking on tiptoe, her entire body like a feather, floating lightly three centimeters above the ground. The wind chimes rang once more in the windless night. Zhao Li's voice came from behind, carrying a faint trace of weariness: "Another job has arrived." <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe the current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>