Just as dawn was about to break, the roadside stalls that had been bustling for most of the night finally began closing down.
A group of disabled veteran soldiers gradually pushed away the tools they relied on to make a living. In the end, three people remained, thoroughly cleaning up the trash from dozens of late-night food stalls.
This was a rule Wen Zhong had established beforehand. Everyone took turns each month, and no one was exempt. Only by keeping the streets clean could they avoid attracting the attention of city management.
In fact, the vendors at those dozens of stalls all received fairly substantial pensions. They simply wanted something to do.
They had been running late-night food stalls along this street, and that was fine too. Before enlisting, they had also just been people struggling for a living.
"Wen Zhong, do you want to sleep at my place?"
A woman in her thirties came over. She had a prosthetic eye, an entire prosthetic left arm, and was wearing a little tank top... As soon as she arrived, she spoke directly.
"Forget it. I'm not convenient today." Wen Zhong shook his head.
This guy had just blown his clothes off, and he was still bare-chested... After greedily admiring Wen Zhong's powerful muscles for a few moments, the woman muttered and left after giving him the finger, pushing her cart along with her.
Wen Zhong was always the one who transported all the trash away at the end of each day.
He had been the first to establish the rules of this street, so he was naturally the one who always upheld them to the end. Rules could only endure when they had a beginning and an end.
Sometime later, sunlight tinged with gold appeared between the city's high-rises, shining down