I deliver food in a bizarre world

The shop was small, with old radios and broken clocks piled up at the entrance.

Chen Mo glanced inside. The lighting was dim, and the shelves were densely packed with all sorts of strange and unusual old items. From antique kerosene lamps with rusty marks to enamel mugs with peeling paint, there was everything imaginable.

An old man with gray hair and a thin frame, wearing reading glasses, sat behind the counter.

He was carefully repairing the movement of a clock by the dim light of a table lamp.

Chen Mo walked into the shop and looked around. The old man didn't even look up, but slowly asked, "Look around as you like. If you see something you like, bring it over and ask the price."

Chen Mo walked to the counter and placed the music box covered with a black cloth on the counter: "Boss, I have something to ask you."

Old Wang then raised his eyelids, adjusted his reading glasses, and glanced up at Chen Mo.

His gaze lingered on the man's face for a moment before settling on the box in his hand.

"What is it?"

Chen Mo gently lifted a corner of the black cloth, revealing the wooden music box: "Did this music box originate from you?"

Old Wang put down his tools, stood up, moved closer, and examined the music box more closely.

Then he looked up and sized up Chen Mo.

This time, Chen Mo could see that there was something else in his eyes.

"It came from here." He spoke calmly, seemingly unsurprised that someone had come to his door.

Chen Mo said, "This box is a bit special, you know?"

Upon hearing this, Old Wang sighed.

He took off his reading glasses, wiped them with the corner of his shirt, and said, "I know. I've heard that people who have handled it don't sleep very well."

Before Chen Mo could ask any questions, Old Wang continued, "I bought it from a bankrupt folk craft factory in the south before the Lunar New Year. I bought a bunch of them at the time, and everything else was fine, but this one was not right."

"Not long after it was put on display, the first person to buy it was a young woman, but she returned it after a couple of days, saying that she kept hearing someone crying at night."

"I didn't pay attention at the time, thinking she might be scaring herself."

"It changed hands twice more, and the results were similar. The buyers either had nightmares or were mentally confused, so they all returned it. I put it away and didn't put it out again."

"A few days ago, a young man who runs an online auction came to collect the goods. I found it annoying, so I sold them to him cheaply along with some other inventory. How come they ended up in your hands again?"

Chen Mo nodded: "I guess so. Do you know the specific origin of this box? Who originally made it? And what other information do you have about that craft factory? For example, what products does it produce, where is it located, and who is the owner?"

Old Wang shook his head, put his reading glasses back on, picked up his tools, and continued fiddling with his clock.

"I don't know... that factory went out of business a long time ago, and we can't even find the owner..."

"However, they used to make a lot of things, such as wood weaving, willow weaving, inside painting and micro-carving, wood carving and embroidery, and they could even imitate porcelain..."

"As for who made it... who can remember clearly about something that comes off an assembly line like this?"

"Young man, take my advice. This box is unlucky. If you bought it because it was cheap, throw it away or find a way to get rid of it. Don't keep it with you."

His attitude turned somewhat cold, as if he didn't want to talk any further.

Good grief, is this a new urban legend?

This is clearly not a ghost story! This is an act of possession!

Will this music box get dirty?

[Of course! Otherwise, why would Brother Mo personally intervene? It's business hours now!]

Is this old man crazy? He knows it's dirty and still tries to sell it!

Even without reading the comments, Chen Mo had already thought of this and couldn't help but frown.

"If it's unlucky, why are you selling it?"

Old Wang just kept shaking his head and said nothing more.

A hapless secondhand dealer managed to get rid of his troublesome goods?

But Chen Mo felt that something was off, especially the other person's eyes.

The old man was too calm. His reaction to the reappearance of a known abnormal item and the arrival of a stranger was far too ordinary.

"Brother Mo, there's something strange about this old man."

Zhao Tianyi's voice was tinged with doubt, "I feel like he's hiding something. His aura is very stable, almost unnaturally so, but there's no malice in it."

Chen Mo felt the same way and silently replied in his heart, "Yes, I know."

Old Wang looked up at Chen Mo again, then continued with his work.

Chen Mo felt that this person was nothing like an ordinary secondhand shop owner.

But he had no evidence and couldn't force the issue.

"Young man, if you want to return it, you can keep this."

"No need, thank you for disturbing me."

He thanked them, covered the music box with the black cloth again, and prepared to leave.

Just as he turned to leave, for some reason, Old Wang suddenly spoke again.

"If you really want to figure out what's wrong with this box... maybe you can go to Tingyu Pavilion in the south of the city and ask them."

Listening to the Rain Pavilion?

Chen Mo paused, turned around and glanced at Lao Wang.

Old Wang didn't look up, but just said to himself, "There's an old master craftsman named Lin over there who used to specialize in repairing old musical instruments. He knows more about these old, still-sounding objects than we middlemen do."

Master Lin?

Old Wang continued to fix his clock with his head down, as if his earlier remark was just a casual remark.

"Thank you." Chen Mo noted down the name, then walked out of the general store with the music box in his arms.

After leaving the flea market, Chen Mo did not immediately head to the south of the city; he planned to study the music box more thoroughly first.

Chen Mo randomly picked a McDonald's, ordered a meal, found a quiet corner to sit down, placed the music box on the table, and lifted the black cloth.

Under normal lighting, this music box looks very antique.

He activated his spiritual eyes again and observed carefully. The pale gray energy of sorrow still clung to the box, like a thin veil of lament.

He tried carefully and cautiously to turn on the spring switch on the side of the music box.

Click... Click...

The sound of the clockwork being wound up barely made a fuss in a corner of the noisy restaurant.

Then, the tinkling music started playing.

The melody was old, carrying a unique melancholy and sadness of the last century; it was a piece Chen Mo had never heard before.

The melody is not complicated, but one section of the melody appears repeatedly.

Each repetition carries a sense of regret for what was not achieved, leaving listeners feeling choked up.

Just as the music played the same melody twice, the chorus was about to end, and the outro was approaching, something strange happened!

The music box's sound quality suddenly became somewhat distorted, like the skipping of an old record.

Chen Mo looked around and, seeing that none of the other diners seemed to be acting strangely, he felt relieved.

It seems that only he could hear this anomaly, or rather, only those who have awakened their spirituality could perceive it.

Immediately afterwards, a broken female voice rang out amidst the music, filled with anxiety, like a whisper:

"...Can't...find...the...sheet... "

"Cannot...be...complete..."