Xiaoshanhe Urban Village.
The biggest room on the first floor of a tube-shaped building, its balcony crowded with all kinds of flowers and plants.
Lü Qian was fiddling with a nearly glossy string of prayer beads in his hand, lounging comfortably on a recliner and listening to the radio.
His eyes were half-closed, humming along to the melody drifting from the radio, a Beijing opera show tune.
Every now and then, he'd reach out for the enamel mug on the side table and take a sip of his liquor.
A tune of Beijing opera, a sip of his liquor.
Beijing's Old Deng, living a worry-free and well-fed retirement, life is just this dull and monotonous.
Ring ring ring––
A burst of phone ringing interrupted Lü Qian's little moment of pleasure.
He picked up his phone for a look—Caller ID: "Xiao Jiang".
The only tenant surnamed Jiang renting from him was Jiang Tao; aside from him, there was no one else.
"Hey, Xiao Jiang."
