Qin Ran looked at the room before him, so small that after fitting a single bed, one had to turn sideways to pass through the remaining aisle. He could not help shaking his head.
He did not want to stay for even a moment longer.
The floorboards were rotten. Even though Qin Ran moved carefully, they still creaked beneath his feet.
Moreover, there were no windows in the room, and the bedding on the bed carried a constant damp, moldy stench.
The only source of light in the room was an oil lamp extending from the wooden wall. However, its oil had long since run dry, leaving only a parched wick.
Picking up his backpack from the head of the bed, Qin Ran inspected the room once more. After confirming there was no valuable information, he turned and pushed open the door.
Only a single oil lamp burned near the entrance of the dim, narrow corridor.
The stench of filth and excrement filled the long-unwashed passage. Several drunks lay sprawled on the floor, snoring, while the small rooms lined up on either side constantly rang with drunken curses and shrill, shrewish screams sparked by disputes over price.
The drunks who had been awakened let out one or two loud jeers before falling back into their stupor.
They did not care where they were lying, much less the state of their surroundings.
"People crushed by despair."
With that assessment in mind, Qin Ran carefully stepped around their feet.
He would not lower his guard simply because these people appeared harmless.
Nor would he trample upon their dignity simply because of the life they had chosen.
By the time he stepped over the last person, Qin Ran had reached the exit leading aboveground. A gentle breeze washed over him, slightly dispersing the