Chapter 2: Sales of Time!

"Sales of Time" is just a tiny shop. Inside the shopkeeper in a luxurious and noble old suit, there was no one but Rosabella and the reluctant guest still stopped at the door, Jonathan.

"Watch it freely. Everything is at your disposal."

"Sales of Time" displays a lot of antique watches. All over the space, there was a melancholy, bizarre look that seemed to have a unique story.

The watch price was not specified, unlike the shops that Rosabella used to visit. Only the top of each car was engraved with a number, which looked like the year of birth.

1781, 1782, 1827, 1828, 1845, 1846, 1879, 1880,…

Rosabella never thought there would be a place like this in New London where she works and lives.

"Here, do you sell time?" Rosabella asked quietly.

If possible, she'd like to buy it, and she'd like to buy back her youth years, the time Louis didn't belong to anyone else, just her upper-class male student, in her eyes, alone.

Rosabella was so selfish, and she knew it, and she never denied it.

It's just Rosabella laughing at herself. There's no such thing as a freak. Isn't it time that God is the most stingy thing for man?

She can't hold on to life and death but wants money to buy time.

"Lady, I told you, everything is up to you. If you think it's possible, why don't you try it?" repeated the shopkeeper, stepping out of the empty room. Rosabella isn't sure if there is a room there.

"I used to think that, too, but I knew I was wrong." Rosabella opened her mouth with a sad laugh.

She used to believe that she'd go after Louis if she tried, but wouldn't the truth have awakened her confidence?

"This." Rosabella pointed to the 1879 watch and turned to ask the mistress: "What's the price?"

She pointed at her most eye-catching watch because the eyes were all exquisite but relatively similar. A few minor differences that are not easily recognized when placed close together make Rosabella only able to judge based on unique numbers on the top of the clock.

"Lady, how much do you think your time is worth?" The shopkeeper took down the 1879 watch and handed it to her gently: "I'll sell you at that price."

Never in her life has Rosabella had such a mysterious incident happen again today. She secretly valued the watch in her hand. A look with no number, no short needles, no long needles?

What will Rosabella do with it?

"How do I use this? How much do I have to pay?"

"Feel with your soul."

Rosabella's eyebrows are slightly raised, twitching. Once again, both the mind and the mood go round and round and round. She's been tired all day, so she doesn't want to do anything with the salesperson at this hour.

She pulled out a hundred-dollar bill from her wallet, then handed it to the owner. "Will this be enough, or I'll give you more? I've never met a salesman like you."

It's new to attract customers and marketers.

The shopkeeper was still kind enough to look at her, take the bill and give her a receipt with an ancient pattern. Is it okay to sell goods in this era without using a red invoice, as stipulated by the Ministry of Finance?

"Hold on, and these are yours." Said the landlady, turning her back.

Coming out of "The Half-Time," Rosabella still can't figure out what she just went through. She doesn't know why she bought this watch. While her meal and rest time is more erratic than the weather, she doesn't need a look. Did she think, could she turn the clock back?

Seeing Jonathan's quiet eyes waiting outside the store, she's finally not stubborn this time. Pushing gently on the shoulder of her longtime best friend, Rosabella slowly said:

"I'm not going anywhere anymore. Now, take the bus home right away. You go home too, don't follow me."

Jonathan looked at her for a long time. Put his big hand on Rosabella's head two times, rub her gently, then call a taxi before agreeing to let her leave.

Rosabella returns to the messy room and her. The original was also a neat room. Until last night she suffered a rage from her inability to love.

Stepping out of the tattered pieces of clothing everywhere, Rosabella came to sit on her little bed, reflecting on the things she was lazy to accept tomorrow.

Life is meaningless without Louis. The feeling of heartache is raging again.

When night came, alone in the corner of the room, Rosabella often remembered Louis, missing her bright smile and eyes like the sunny day sky.

He is as beautiful as the weather of early autumn, like today. And he was the prettiest at his wedding with a girl who wasn't her. That's all the pain.

Closing her eyes quietly, Rosabella sighed. She doesn't know how she will live next or for what purpose. Her mood is so empty right now.

Ting Ting.

The 1879 watch she had placed on the table just now made Rosabella pay attention to it. She almost forgot she had just bought something weird at home. She held up her hand for the inside watch, picked it up, and examined it closely.

This doesn't look like any watch she's ever seen. The distinctive design does not say that the top of the clock engraved with 1879 is enormous and straightforward. Is it the year of the man who made it, or the year of the watch?

The front of the clock should have no number, so there should be twelve lines or, at most, four bars and a minute needle, but there is nothing. It's not an electronic clock, but it doesn't have a button and doesn't light up. Rosabella doesn't know why she bought this!

Ting Ting.

1879 cried again. Rosabella was supposed to go to bed, but still, out of curiosity, she turned it around and watched it again. This time she felt a braille line at the watch's bottom.

"All your things, forever yours."

Rosabella's heart sank, and this phrase seemed to touch the bottom of her heart. Rosabella used to think that Louis was his and that if she were always around, he would look back and hold her hand one day.

Rosabella just shook.

The shopkeeper's earlier remark suddenly rang in her head.

"Whether it's fate."

Do she mean this watch has chosen her, and it tells her to find the love that belongs to her boldly? But how?

Rosabella seriously said. And then laugh at the stupidity that just flew by in her subconscious.

" Rosabella, I'm almost twenty-five years old and still being led by a clock, thinking so much."

Ting Ting.

The clock face finally lit up. Only, it doesn't show like any other regular clock, above only one number. It's number three.

What the hell, Rosabella has been cheated?