Forgotten Photo Studio

Chapter 19 Interlude

Xu Yan took the small, heavy amulet, and could feel the texture of the mulberry paper and the fine particles of cinnabar on his fingertips.

He didn't speak, but nodded heavily, and solemnly stuffed it into the innermost hidden compartment of his camera bag, placing it together with the cold calming film.

After all this was done, the suffocating tension between the two eased slightly, but a deeper sense of shared destiny and solidarity spread through them.

They need to do something concrete to dispel this fear and to reassure themselves that life goes on.

Xu Yan took a deep breath, breaking the silence. His voice returned to its usual cold tone, but with a hint of barely perceptible firmness:

"With that money, let's settle the outstanding debts first."

He took out his encrypted phone and found the landlord's number.

The dial tone rang for a long time before being answered. A voice on the other end, trying desperately to conceal its panic, still betrayed a hint of alarm:

"Hello...hello? Who is it?"

“Forgotten Photo Studio, Xu Yan.” Xu Yan’s voice was calm and even.

There was a sudden silence on the other end of the call, followed by a faint sound as if something had been knocked over. The landlord's breathing quickened noticeably, and his tone became extremely cautious, even somewhat ingratiating.
"Mr. Xu... Mr. Xu? What... what are your orders?"

The last Shadowbound Ghost incident nearly wiped him and his men off the face of the earth; that terrifying experience was far beyond his comprehension.

When he received Xu Yan's call, his first reaction was not to collect rent, but to fear that he would get into some inhuman trouble again.

"Pay the rent. The three months of arrears, plus this month's, make it four months in total," Xu Yan said directly.

"Ah?...Ah!" The landlord's voice rose instantly, filled with unbelievable joy. The fear he had felt was immediately overshadowed by the enormous financial gain. "Great! That's wonderful! Mr. Xu, you're too kind! I'll send you the payment address right away! Same as always, just transfer the money!"

You could even hear a sigh of relief coming from the other side.

However, his joy lasted only a couple of seconds before the landlord's tone became hesitant and subtle. He lowered his voice, as if afraid of being overheard:
"Um... Mr. Xu, I've received the money, thank you."

"However... there's something I need to let you in advance. There's already word from above that this area might be undergoing a comprehensive development and demolition."

"When that time comes... when the document is actually issued, there's nothing I can do. You need to plan ahead..."

Demolition? This means that the temporary peace may also be short-lived.

Xu Yan frowned slightly, but her voice remained unchanged: "I understand."

He abruptly and decisively hung up the call.

He and Chen Zhiwei exchanged a glance, both seeing a hint of seriousness in each other's eyes.

Almost instinctively, she raised her hand, her fingertips idly and gently brushing the cold wooden surface of the huge filing cabinet beside her, as if to soothe all the restless souls inside, or to confirm that this "home" still existed solidly.

With the funds secured, the renovation of the photo studio was put on the agenda.

Xu Yan went to purchase new medicinal herbs, high-quality talisman paper, a large quantity of specially made developing paper, and even added a silent generator in case of a sudden power outage while handling sensitive business.

Chen Zhiwei was in charge of tidying up and cleaning. She replaced the old light bulbs in the store that were always flickering and making an annoying buzzing sound with softer and warmer LED lights.

The moment the lights came on, the usually gloomy and oppressive photo studio surprisingly exuded a touch of... almost "warmth".

Although it is still filled with old files, the suffocating sense of decay has been largely dispelled.

"What...what will we do next?" One evening, Chen Zhiwei asked casually while wiping dust off the counter. "The work at the center pays well, but..." "But the cost is even higher, and we don't even know who we're working for," Xu Yan interjected, checking the concentration of the newly arrived developer. "We can't rely on them alone."

“Grandpa didn’t rely entirely on the ‘center’ before,” Chen Zhiwei said softly. “Some neighbors would secretly come to our door when they encountered some… strange things that were hard to explain. Sometimes Grandpa would take some money, sometimes just a pot of wine, or a few eggs.”

Xu Yan paused for a moment.

He understood what she meant.

“Hmm.” He pondered for a moment. “We can keep an eye out for these in the future. We can take on projects that the ‘Center’ doesn’t handle, or that they feel aren’t ‘worth’ enough. The rules remain the same: Shadows lock souls, and files are kept. The payment… we’ll see.” He paused, then added, “At least, it’ll keep this light burning.”

This is not just about money, but also about finding a way for the photo studio to be relatively independent of the "center" and to continue operating.

A small act of resistance and self-preservation.

During the renovation, the first unexpected customer came to the door on a gloomy, drizzly afternoon.

The knocking was soft, hesitant, as if it might disappear into the sound of rain at any moment.

Chen Zhiwei opened the door and saw a girl who was soaking wet. She looked to be in her early twenties, with a deathly pale face, thick dark circles under her eyes, and bloodshot eyes filled with fear and uncertainty.

She gripped a basketball hoop tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force.

"Please...excuse me..." Her voice trembled violently, interrupted by a sudden rumble of thunder, which startled her so much that she almost jumped up.

She took several deep breaths before mustering her courage, her voice barely audible: "Is this place... where 'those'... things that appear at night... can be dealt with?"

Chen Zhiwei did not answer immediately. Her gaze passed over the girl and looked at the misty rain outside the door, as if she was sensing something.

After a moment, she stepped aside and said, "Come in, the rain is getting heavier."

The girl, like a startled rabbit, practically scurried in through the doorway.

As soon as she entered, her gaze was drawn to the ever-burning lamp at the end of the counter; the flickering flame seemed to reassure her a little.

She spoke haltingly, her voice often cut off by sobs and fear.

Her grandmother passed away a month ago, and strange things have been happening ever since.

It wasn't a terrifying sight, but a sound.

Every night at three o'clock sharp, the glass wind chimes given to her by her grandmother by her bedside would ring by themselves.

Jingle bell…jingle bell…

It wasn't the soft sound of a gentle breeze, but rather a persistent, rhythmic, and repeated plucking.

The sound was crystal clear, yet its source could not be traced.

She tried throwing the wind chime into the trash can downstairs, but the next day it was hanging back in front of the window intact;

She tried wrapping each bell tongue tightly with tape, but the tape would inexplicably break at night;
She moved to a friend's house, and the phone rang outside her friend's door all night, scaring her friend so much that she never dared to let her stay overnight again.

“It’s not bad… I know Grandma didn’t mean to hurt me…” The girl broke down, covering her face with her hands, tears streaming through her fingers. “But I can’t take it anymore… I’m going crazy! I can hear the alarm clock when I close my eyes, I even… I even start to feel that Grandma will push open the door and wake me up the next second, just like before…”

(End of this chapter)