The alleys in Nancheng's old town have always been a mixed bag. The potholed concrete roads have been softened by the rain. There are discarded cartons and rotten vegetable leaves piled on the roadside. The smell of leftover fried dough sticks from the breakfast shop next door floats in the air, as well as the smell of smoke from the Internet cafe at the end of the alley. Mixed together, this is the place where Li Ci has lived for twenty years.
