It was a two-story building imitating a European-style building in the suburbs. It was autumn, and the mottled footprints of the ivy were carved on the uneven wall. The vicissitudes of weathering showed its age. The roof was made of red glazed tiles, so it was called the Red House. This old street used to be bustling, and it was a good place for the previous generation to go shopping in the market, but now there is only one open store left. The other store signs are blurred, the broken and gray oilcloth is swaying in the breeze, and the store doors are even made of blue bricks and plastered with cement to make them uneven.