The two hurriedly walked out from a narrow alleyway behind the night market, as the cacophony of the bustling streets gradually faded into the distance.
The tires scraped against the old bluestone pavement, treading upon the shadows cast by the moonlight. It seemed as if the whole world was reduced to nothing but the sound of footsteps.
Deep within the alley, there stood an old tenement building, resembling a frail, aging elder who was barely clinging to life.
The man abandoned the tricycle and rushed to the second floor.
A lone lamp illuminated the building's entrance, but it flickered unsteadily, much like the decrepit tenement itself. The uncertain light seemed to hint at lurking dangers in the unseen corners, stirring an involuntary sense of dread.
Rong Xianning stepped into the entranceway. The walls were peeling and mottled, covered with patches of advertisements sticking like ringworm growths. The stair railings were rusted beyond recognition.
