The next day, early in the morning.
This was an ordinary street, bustling with traffic. Vehicles and pedestrians streamed by ceaselessly.
In the middle of the street, an alley lay dim and unlit. Puddles dotted the ground. In a corner, a few black trash bins, already filled to the brim, were placed. Nestled against the wall sat an old, faded tent.
The zipper door of the tent was not closed. Inside, one could see a pile of cotton quilts shaped like a human form.
Amidst rustling sounds, an elderly woman slowly lifted the cotton quilts. She sat up, rubbing her bleary eyes, and poked her head out of the tent.
She appeared to be around sixty years of age. She was somewhat bulky, dressed in a brown coat and black pants. Her hair was disheveled and her face lined with wrinkles. She had small eyes, dark circles, and drooping eye bags. She gave off an appearance of poor spirits, an unceasing anxiety in her gaze.
