Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 702: Is there no slum area in Lunweiting?
There are no slums in Lunwitin. The Seven Stars District is just the poorest of its 32 administrative districts. Even so, the living standards of residents are still several times better than those of residents in the same districts of other cities. So we can conclude that in this most prosperous city in the world, there is no need for slums to exist. The poor are not eliminated, but transformed.

—Sorenson Esther, Where Have All the Poor People of Old London Gone?, 1812 edition.

Lingge didn't know whether this statement was correct, but at least when he left the dim underground and stepped onto the streets of Lunwitin for the first time, the scene before him was indeed very different from the slums he had imagined.

They said goodbye to the ferryman Gern at the Oak Station, watched his back disappear at the other end of the waterway, and went to pick up the next batch of passengers before following the instructions on the wooden sign and walking along the moldy and damp steps to the ground. The exit was located in a narrow alley, where few people passed by, so it was particularly hidden.

In the long-abandoned and dilapidated shrine, a secret door controlled by a pull rod mechanism opened silently, and a group of people poured out one after another, finally breathing the fresh air from the ground. However, it was mixed with the stench of decay, dead algae, rust, dust and animal carcasses, as if mold spores were invading the respiratory cavity unscrupulously. This smell was not as good as the turbid air in the underground world. At least it was filtered by the water vapor of the underground river, so people would not feel so uncomfortable.

Metien wrinkled her nose into a bitter gourd, Leticia gently pinched her nose, and Shemi even lay on the pink-haired little girl's head and retched, obviously unable to accept the air quality here. Others did not show it so obviously, but they also subconsciously frowned or covered their mouths and noses. Lingge didn't care. He walked at the back and looked back after leaving the passage. He found that the secret door had been closed. In its original position, there was a statue of a saint. The compassionate posture of holding a baby and breastfeeding was awe-inspiring, but the head was missing, and the angel wings behind him were also missing half, which looked a bit weird.

There are towering stone walls on both sides, and the only visible line above the head, which looks particularly depressing; there is a dead end at the back, but the high brick wall is already shaky, and might even collapse if hit by a stray cat; there is a steep staircase in front, leading to a ten-meter-high street. The slope is almost vertical, and you will probably need to climb very carefully to avoid the tragic end of falling after slipping.

Old man Pancras extinguished the short white wax on the candlestick, placed it on the altar of the shrine, and whispered, "Please follow me, I will take you to see the person in charge of St. Anville Cross Church."

Although the believers of the Spiritual Prayer Society collectively evacuated the land of Runkwell, the iconic building such as St. Annville Cross Church still needed someone to stay and manage it, and Ling guessed that the person in charge must be a believer of the True Spirit Sect like old man Pancras.

He led everyone up the stairs and to the street, allowing the outsiders to see the street scene of Lenwitin for the first time. Although many Lenwitin people were unwilling to admit that the Seven Stars District was also an urban area, they felt that it should be classified as a suburb like Kenkville Green. The name of the Seven Stars District came from the seven streets that ran through this block, which just formed a complete star map, roughly the night sky surrounded by the constellations of Hoarfrost Grass, Centaurus and Heraeus, and St. Annville Cross Church happened to be located in the center of this star map.

The first thing that caught everyone's attention was this magnificent church in classical style. They had seen its replica in the Three Mountains, but the original building was more magnificent and spectacular than they had imagined. It was so huge that its shadow alone covered three streets, including the one under their feet, making the residents of these streets live in darkness for most of the day. It was impossible to see its entirety from this direction. Even if one looked up, one could only see the dome that was blooming like a flower, extending straight upward, as if it was flying into the sky; the scattered high towers were hidden deep in the lush atrium, and the spires of the towers were all decorated with statues of saints. Perhaps one of the bell towers was the area managed by the former bell ringer Pancras.

Before they even approached the church, they already felt like ants under its feet, with a feeling of oppression and awe. The distance was infinitely shortened by the volume, as if there was such a formula in physics. Metien exclaimed "Wow", his eyes wide open, unwilling to move away, as if he wanted to compare the advantages and disadvantages of this church in front of him with his own Tianxin Church in all aspects - although in reality, there was no comparison.

Leticia lost interest after taking a look. She felt that the only advantage of this church was its height. The dome and the eaves of the bell tower hung upside down would be very cool. Apart from that, she could not appreciate the style, artistic connotation, religious significance, etc. The little bat looked to the right out of boredom and found that the alley they left was right next to a cemetery. It should be the church's public cemetery. There were pale tombstones everywhere, like a monotonous forest. Why do the entrances and exits of secret passages like to be set near cemeteries? It was the same when she escaped from the secret passage of the Forloze Castle last time. Could it be that this type of building naturally has a hidden and secret attribute? She couldn't help but fall into deep thought.

While others were paying attention to the church or the cemetery, Linger was observing the scene on the street.

This is a particularly bleak street. The paving tiles have long been rotten and cracked. The wild grass that has stubbornly squeezed out from the cracks is yellow and withered. The bare roadside trees stand silently, and the fallen leaves dried by the sun are withering in the wind... It is clearly still midsummer, but it seems to have entered late autumn early, making people involuntarily wrap their clothes tightly for fear that the howling cold wind will penetrate into their necks.

On the left side of the street are rows of wooden houses, which seem to be carved out of the same mold, with the same height, width and shape. In order to save materials, every two rooms share a thin wall, which can't block anything except light. It looks like a stack of matchboxes. From the windows facing the street, you can see the busy residents living inside, either women doing housework or children helping to fill cotton wool or cut old newspapers. There are no adult men in sight, most of them are probably working.

There were few pedestrians, and the few passers-by who occasionally passed by were also in a hurry. Sometimes, like the residents in the house, they cast vigilant glances at these strangers, thinking they were very covert, but when they saw the figure of old man Pancras, they quickly retracted their gazes and no longer paid attention to the movements of these people. That feeling was not so much a habit as it was an effort to pretend to be indifferent and avoid unnecessary trouble - this was a skill that people living in slums learned without a teacher.

Everything I saw was old, ancient, and full of the smell of years of decay and mold, but surprisingly clean, without the garbage, sewage, stray animals, or dead cats and mice that can be seen everywhere in the slums of other cities, except that the air smelled strange. In addition, the infrastructure was also well-built, with sewers, drainage canals, street lights, and public fire hydrants. The lack of gas and water pipes may be because the residents here cannot afford it.

Do they live a difficult life? Perhaps, from the old patches on their clothes that are patched but still leaky, from the poor quality boiler and half a loaf of black bread in the kitchen, from the children who look pale but still try to help with the work... and other details, we can see it; but do they live well? Perhaps, because at least they have a simple wooden house to live in, live on a street that is not safe but at least clean, and can see the iconic buildings of this block as soon as they look up. This is the life that the poor, beggars and vagrants in many cities dream of.

What a strange place.

Linger couldn't help but think: No wonder Sorenson Esther said there were no ghettos in Lunwiting.

　Give me some meow
　　
　
(End of this chapter)