Getting out of bed, Shen Yunzhi walked to the window. The lights of the recycling bin downstairs dimmed in the rain. The piles of scrap metal, old appliances, and broken furniture were blurred in the night, like a forgotten industrial cemetery. He has lived here for three years, unable to find a job since graduating from college, and inherited the scrapyard left by his father.
The phone vibrated, and a message popped up: "Boss Shen, a batch of goods arrived today. The old signaling equipment that the railway bureau has phased out, do you want to accept it?"
The sender is Lao Zhao, a veteran employee of the railway system, who has provided a lot of "supply" to the scrap station in recent years. Shen Yunzhi replied "accept" and then lit a cigarette.
