At that time, it was just commonplace.
As the night passed, the lights shone across the old streets, the dead were questioned, and the living continued to eat noodles. Some people are missing, some are silent, and some are getting the originals. The pot boils again, the soup turns white, and all the debts are like fish blood in the ditch, stuck there, and no one can really pay it off.
Intention: Everyone is looking for a place to stay, but the ground beneath their feet is originally paved with old scores, lies and pain.