I like to go out at night, I don't think I'm just connected to the night. Summer in the city always feels like it's a long one, and the hustle and bustle of the food stalls doesn't end until the middle of the night. Groups of friends, resentful women who hurt their spirits alone, drunks who wander all night. The closest thing to life may be the so-called reality.

The city is very big, my favorite means of transportation may be the subway, Mousse has a beautiful big motorcycle, Mr. Yu seems to have a car, I don't see how he drives, they know how to enjoy life. Once at a bar, I asked them if they had ever taken the last subway. They didn't speak, and I knew no one would be as weird as I was.

Most of the good things in this world are cheap and can be obtained without paying too much. Like at the moment, I can travel through the city from north to south for only five dollars. The subway is very depreciated, and the outside seems to be a fresh coat of paint, while the inside of the carriage is very unbearable.

It's hard to imagine what it's like to be in the morning and evening rush hours every day. It should be no different from a container, in the past, the old poor ghost hated the word container, and everyone had a shadow of fear. I don't think he needs to be afraid of anything now.

Now that the carriage was empty, I found a place to sit down, and next to me were two young men who were not alive, working overtime until late at night, and seemed to drain all the energy of the two people.

The two seemed to know each other, and they both looked at the opposite window with the same movements. There was no dialogue between the two, and I found it boring after watching it for a while. After two stops, two middle-aged women sat opposite me chattering all the way, and it seemed that the whole carriage was lively, although they were all a little unnutritious. It was interesting to listen to at first, the two of them spoke very quickly, and it seemed to be mixed with a little dialect, and it was a little annoying to listen to it, so they changed their posture and leaned against the car glass.

At the next stop, a "musician", an old man in his sixties, led by an aunt dressed in shabby clothes, got on the train with his eyes closed and playing the harmonica. It's funny that the two women on the opposite side suddenly fell silent, so that only the sound of the harmonica was left in the carriage, which was a rare enjoyment.

So I put a cigarette in my outstretched hand and smiled. I tried to be as friendly as possible, but the corners of my mouth were halfway up, and I felt unnatural, so I thought about it. I guess my expression must be weird and not very friendly. The city rarely responds, and people take it for granted.

The subway was going fast, the carriages came and went, and I got to where I was going. This is a rich area where every inch of land is valuable, clean and tidy, and it is brilliantly lit. The target's home is in a gated community here.

Although I don't know which of his homes this is, there are more than a dozen women suspected of being related to him, and I don't find it strange in his capacity. And what is really strange is that no matter where he goes, he will definitely return here for the night before twelve o'clock at midnight, and the people who follow him can only stay outside the house and cannot enter, whether there is anyone else in the house, and who lives in it no one knows.

I hate burglary, there are too many things to pay attention to, and the trouble is tight. But the first question in front of me was how I could get into this neighborhood, and in the face of the security guards who were still kicking the dog at nearly twelve o'clock, I thought it was time to think of a similar plan.

But anyone who lives here is extremely insecure, I think. It is clear that the properties in the community provide them with what they want. The community is very large, there should be a power grid on the high wall, and cutting the power grid will trigger the alarm, because the wall is too high to see the situation inside, and it is possible to fall into the encirclement if you climb over the wall and land, after all, a few monitoring probes are not dry, they will definitely capture yourself more clearly than your selfie.

I shook my head after looking around, this difficulty is no less than that of the ancient Heaven Robbery Prison. But there have been people in our profession who have done it, and it has been vigorous and very rude. That's not my style, and there's a fundamental difference between it and prison. Thinking like this, I lit a cigarette, and suddenly there was a tom under my feet, as if I had stepped on something terrible.

If there is indeed no endless road to heaven, my feet are like a god-given well at this moment.