Inside the dirty alley, exposed electric lines dangled from old electric poles. The streetlights had long since fused out but no one was ordered to fix them. The squat factory beside the alley was shrouded in darkness. The dim light from the flashlights picked out the stains left on the alley from prolonged exposure to the elements and the trash that collected at the corners.
There were some old residential houses opposite the factory. One of them had a small yard, and several large black urns were arranged neatly by the gate. The yard was a small tofu making workshop. The place was deserted after the lockdown, who knew where the owners were now. Most of the urns were empty except some which had thin layers of water at the bottom. When the workshop was in working condition, the place would be permeated with the brilliant smell of ground beans.
