No. 13 Hewan Street, on the edge of the old town, there's a 24-hour convenience store.
Three months after her grandfather passed away behind this counter, Lin Wan takes over the night shift.
At 2 AM, the doorbell rings half a tone flat —
and she sees her first "guest."
What is this store?
This little store is a ferry stop between worlds. Things left undone and words left unsaid harden into regrets, clinging to unfinished objects — a letter, a cup of tea, a scarf — and walk in as spirits between 2 and 4 AM.
Her grandmother's journal, "The Store Rules," was kept for forty-one years. The first page says only:
"Stand behind the register, and the store is yours."[/i]
Four house rules:
Never ask where a guest comes from
Never rush anyone to check out
Serve the warm things first
Say a proper goodbye to every guest
Gameplay: more than reading
A first-person visual novel[/b]: make choices at key moments — how you respond shapes how each guest's farewell unfolds
Free exploration[/b]: between story beats, investigate glowing spots around the store — the third shelf, the lost-and-found drawer, the oden pot — to find items, clues, and fragments of the store's 41 years
Serve something warm[/b]: read each guest's lingering regret, pick the right "unfinished thing" from the shelf, heat it up, and hand it over. A simple gesture that carries real weight
Journal collection[/b]: record your guests in grandma's journal — stickers, CGs, and an ending gallery that light up page by page
Wugeng the store cat[/b]: feed him, brush him, or play with a paper ball; his brutally honest review board by the door knows everything
Multiple endings: every chapter ends in "release" or "regret." Gather four moonlit petals to reach the winter solstice full moon
Tonight's guests
Wenjiu— a vampire bound to this store by a three-hundred-year promise. Every night, heat her a cup of tomato juice. Scalding hot.
Mo— a letter rewritten seven times and never sent. She has waited eighty-three years for someone who won't come back.
Chacha— a cup of barley tea that went cold waiting. The bell only ever half-rings for her.
Zhi — an unfinished scarf. She buys one ball of yarn every night; by dawn, her knitting comes undone again.
Content
Full version: prologue + four chapters + finale, ~7.5 hours, 100k+ words.
The style
A watercolor convenience store at night, journals, stickers, and washi tape.
A cozy soundtrack that follows day and night, with the oden pot bubbling underneath.
Some goodbyes need a hot cup of tomato juice.
