The wind in the alley carried a rancid smell from the east to the west. He Yuan held the broken lantern and walked forward slowly.
The flames in the lantern were blown around by the wind, and the scriptures on the paper had long been blurred, leaving only deep and shallow ink marks, like someone's face that was full of tears. He glanced down and blocked the wind with his hands. When the flames stabilized, he continued to walk.
Tonight's errand was not difficult. I was to deliver a letter to the grocery store by the dock for Liu Laizi in the west of the city. It cost him 30 yuan for errands, no more, no less, enough to feed him for two days.
He Yuan is already familiar with this kind of work. After living in this city for six years, he delivered letters, took messages, visited places, and occasionally helped people deal with some invisible things - such as throwing away a dead dog that was picked up from the river, or collecting some bad debts for the owner of a gambling house.
It's not a serious business, but you can survive.
He stopped when he reached the middle of the alley.
There was a person lying on the ground in front of me.
He Yuan did not walk over immediately, but stood there and stretched the lantern forward to let the dim light shine farther away. The lying man was wearing a gray shorts, his back was covered in mud, his hair was spread out and stuck to his face, and it was hard to see what he looked like. Stretching his right hand forward, his fingers dug into the gaps in the bluestone. His posture seemed to be crawling, and he ran out of energy halfway through the climb.
Whether he was dead or alive, you couldn't tell from this distance.
He Yuan didn't move.
