老王 Dependencies his cheap brandy bottle tucked in his coat pocket as he shuffled down the alleyway behind the office building. Another week bled into the next; the usual grind of making coffee, taking calls, and pretending to understand the quarterly reports. Life was like the lukewarm coffee he usually drank—palatable, but you wouldn't exactly feel invigorated by it.

The air was thick with the smell of damp concrete and something vaguely metallic, like a forgotten nail that had been left out in the rain for too long. Old槐树落叶铺满了整个小巷， every one brittle and papery, crunching underfoot with an unnerving dryness. It was like walking on rusted metal, the kind that might rust further with each step.

"That damn cat again," someone mumbled nearby. Old槐树branch swayed violently, just as if stirred by a hand. Old王扫了一眼， 脸上没什么表情。It was probably just the wind—everyone knew the wind could get funny around here, especially late in the evening when fewer people were around to notice.