The bookstore's business was never very good.

With the advent of the electronic age, all media that used traditional paper as a carrier seemed to be gradually losing their vitality.

Many people, when passing by this bookstore, often wondered how it hadn't closed down, considering it only opened at night.

Fortunately, their curiosity was limited.

After all,

there were too many things in this world more worthy of exploration,

such as why their child looked more and more like their childhood friend.

If someone was truly idle, and happened to be down on their luck, visiting the bookstore at night might bring some special surprises.

Day after day, year… a year passed.

Overall, it was a calm year.

"Dinner's ready!"

Yingying, wearing an apron, walked out of the kitchen, carrying a huge casserole dish.

Yingying was very smart, no one could deny that. Over the past year, her cooking skills had improved rapidly. She and Xu Qinglang took turns cooking every other day, with her cooking on odd days.

On the table,

there was a plate of cucumber salad, a plate of stir-fried chives with shredded pork, a plate of Cangzhou lion's head meatballs, a plate of stir-fried yam with fungus, and in the very center, a pot of chicken stew with mushrooms.

In addition,

there was also Yingying's own creation: lotus root cakes with mint leaves. In the summer, taking a bite of these was crispy, refreshing, and not greasy at all.

"Wow, what a coincidence, you're eating."

Lao Zhang appeared at the bookstore door at the most opportune moment.

At first, when Yingying started cooking, Lao Zhang was "uncoincidentally" absent for a long time. But after tasting Yingying's cooking, he was always "coincidentally" there.

"Yeah, what a coincidence, I even set out an extra set of chopsticks."

Lao Dao glared at Lao Zhang, annoyed.

Lao Zhang didn't stand on ceremony, sat down, and started eating.

Life was busy,

and many people, when rushing to and from work, might just grab a quick bite for their meals.

Takeout, fast food, and all sorts of other convenient options, in the end, were just simplifying meals again and again.

And real meals that imbued eating with a sense of "life" and "enjoyment" were now very difficult to find. The bookstore had preserved and inherited this tradition.

Because,

everyone was very idle.

One chef was a two-hundred-year-old zombie with a rich dowry,

and the other chef was a demolishment beneficiary with more than twenty apartments and closely tied to the nation's destiny.

Food,

in their hands,

could truly be given the soul of "life."

Hei Xiaoniu carried over many fruits, all packaged separately. Some were to be sent by快递 (kuài dì, express delivery) to Yueya and the other ghost officers in other places, and some were to be brought back to the police station by Lao Zhang.

The bookstore's own fruits were completely organic, definitely much tastier than what was sold outside, and it was very impressive to give them as gifts.

The meal was eaten happily.

Only occasionally, during a break to serve rice or drink soup,

someone's gaze would glance towards the sofa by the window,

but on the sofa,

there was no familiar figure.

Life was too bland,

too bland and light, it always made people a little unaccustomed.

It was better to have a little salt,

but unfortunately,

there was a lack of salt.

Lawyer An burped,

put down his chopsticks,

left the table, walked to the bar, and started gulping down the super-sized cup of coffee that Yingying had brewed for him before the meal.

In his phone,

there was still an unread text message.

His scheduled kidney stone surgery would take place next Wednesday.

Lawyer An had always been quite satisfied with this body. It had looks, it had temperament, but it was prone to kidney stones.

Lao Dao's body was not bad. Cancer was terrifying, especially for late-stage cancer patients, it was like being given a death sentence in advance.

But some people had a good attitude, and these people often created miracles.

For example, Lao Dao, who had been told by the doctor that he only had three months left, had been no different from a normal person for the past year, except for going to the hospital for check-ups or chemotherapy every now and then.

Oh,

his hair was gone,

which was inevitable.

This made him look rather strange when he put on his Taoist robe for a while, and passersby thought he cultivated in both Buddhism and Taoism.

Later,

a female college student who had been helped by Lao Dao in the past, after being admitted to Jingcheng University, specifically came to Tongcheng to visit Lao Dao;

after seeing Lao Dao's appearance, she cut off her hair, which she had kept for more than ten years, the next day.

The process of making a wig was simple and complex. And wigs made from human hair could effectively avoid allergies and scalp inflammation.

These problems were only minor problems for ordinary people, but for the body of a cancer patient, they were a big trouble.

Lao Dao wore his wig every day with joy,

telling people the story of the wig on his head whenever he met them.

He had been doing good deeds for decades,

and he didn't care about any reward,

but any kind response could make him happy for a long time.

However, the latest medical report showed that cancer cells had spread to Lao Dao's brain, and the surgery was scheduled in half a month.

But Lao Dao was still happy every day.

After the meal,

Lao Dao went out for a walk,

left the bookstore,

and turned into the pharmacy next door.

Fangfang had gained another circle of weight.

She got married.

Her husband was an active soldier, and he returned to the army after his wedding leave.

The time was short, but Fangfang and her husband worked hard. Two months after her husband returned to the army, Fangfang found out she was pregnant.

Now, Fangfang was getting used to sitting behind the pharmacy counter, continuing to watch beauty blogger videos while knitting sweaters for her baby.

Of course,

she would never use the cosmetics recommended by these bloggers again, everything was for the baby.

"Yo, busy? Did you drink the chicken soup?"

"Drank it, it was delicious."

"Of course, but you can't just sit all the time, walk around more, you're so p…so weak, you have to exercise more to have a smooth delivery."

"I'm afraid of the pain, I'll just have a cesarean."

"Okay, that's fine too."

Lao Dao nodded and walked into the ward.

This ward was still very crowded.

On the innermost bed,

Gou Xin was lying there,

one leg in a cast, hanging from an IV drip, with bandages wrapped around his skin, and faint traces of dark blue could be seen.

Two months ago,

Gou Xin, having mustered his courage, finally took that step again,

after continuously watching the entire "Prison Break" series in the ward,

on that dark and stormy night,

he sneaked out of the pharmacy.

Well, it couldn't be said to be sneaking,

he had paid his medical bills in full, and six months in advance.

At the same time,

in the process of him getting out of bed and leaving the ward,

"Qing" on the next bed

had actually been watching his performance with her eyes open.

Gou Xin couldn't figure it out,

how could this big shot on the next bed, and the big shots in the two beds outside, be so calm.

Yes, those two young men were still unconscious, lying like corpses for almost a year, and still hadn't woken up.

But Qing had woken up long ago, and would even watch "Prison Break" with him.

But these big shots seemed to have no ideas at all.

This made Gou Xin, who had been wanting to find a stepping stone, very uncomfortable.

He couldn't hold back anymore,

he was going to slip away.

Then,

that night,

as soon as he walked out of the pharmacy,

he was struck by lightning.

His body was charred black,

and he rolled to the manhole cover.

The manhole cover was a little loose,

it collapsed,

and his leg was broken.

If he hadn't been discovered by the police on duty, and sent back to the nearest pharmacy for rescue in time, he might have lost his life.

Qing just lay in bed,

watching Gou Xin walk out standing up,

and then watching Gou Xin be carried back lying down.

Her expression was

without joy or sorrow.

She wasn't running.

Since that day when the old man said in the ward that his days were numbered,

the underworld had been turbulent in a short period of time.

Major events had happened one after another.

Soon after,

the passage between the underworld and the yang world was completely blocked.

Even Qing couldn't sense the aura of the underworld.

She was shocked.

The power of the Lord of Hell,

was terrifying!

So,

when Lao Dao opened the ward door,

and asked,

"Yo, little girl, have you eaten?"

Qing smiled brightly, her eyes curved into cute crescents, and enthusiastically responded:

"Yes, Grandpa."

………………

A cup of Kopi Luwak coffee,

and a neatly ironed newspaper,

were placed on Zhou Ze's bedside table every day.

Yingying was afraid that one day the boss would wake up and find that there was no coffee to drink, and no newspaper to read.

During the past year,

every afternoon,

Yingying would take "The Maid's Self-Cultivation v,"

lean on the bed,

read for a while,

and then look at the boss for a while.

The boss liked cleanliness,

and Yingying would give the boss a bath every morning and evening.

She gave him massages twice a day,

and often pushed the wheelchair to take the boss out to bask in the sun.

Sometimes,

if you want to know if a caregiver is diligent or not,

you can just look at whether the patient they are taking care of has bedsores.

The afternoon wind was warm and pleasant.

The wind blew in from the window,

stirring the hair on Zhou Ze's forehead.

Without any warning,

Boss Zhou slowly opened his eyes at this moment.

Yingying seemed to sense something,

and turned her head to look at her boss.

There was no surprise,

no cheering,

there was only

a gentle tenderness like the daily routine,

as if the past was not a year,

but just yesterday;

"Boss, you're awake?"

Zhou Ze closed his eyes, and opened them again after a while, seemingly unable to adapt to the light, his mind still a little muddled.

However,

he saw clearly the girl sitting next to him,

and the corners of his mouth

unconsciously revealed a smile.

"I'm awake?"

"Yes, Boss, would you like to take a bath?"

Yingying clearly remembered all of the boss's habits.

"Am I dreaming?"

After jumping into the well,

Boss Zhou had been dreaming for a year, many, many dreams.

"No, Boss, you're awake."

Zhou Ze laboriously raised his hand,

and Yingying took the initiative to snuggle into Zhou Ze's arms.

Holding the girl in his arms, that familiar coolness assailed him. Although it wasn't as cold as before, it still made Zhou Ze feel very comfortable.

Zhou Ze said, a little worried:

"Yingying?"

"Yes, I'm here, Boss."

"Give me a call."

"嘤嘤嘤 (yīng yīng yīng, sound of crying/moaning)…"

"Yeah, it's not a dream."