When Li Mo opened his eyes, dust was falling from the ceiling above his head.
He lived in the cheapest partitioned house in the slums, and the rent was fifty yuan a month. The walls were so thin that you could hear the rhythm of the neighbor's fart. The table beside the bed, picked up from the trash heap, was missing a leg and had to be propped up with three bricks to barely stand firm.
Li Mo sat up from the bed and glanced at his phone out of habit.
Then he froze.
