Yao'er Hutong housed a colorful cast of shady characters. [Photo: Global Times]

Know the skinny?

Today the hutong is crowded with migrant workers who know nothing of its past, but I spoke to a couple of locals in their 50s who knew a bit. Zhang Jinting, 50, was born in this lane, like his father, and confirmed the story of No 5.

"That was a horrible place at the time," said Zhang. "It was said that once you were in there, you wouldn't leave without parts of your skin missing." 70-year-old Wang, who's lived here since the 1950s, says that even though the size of No.5 has shrunk today, it still houses about 60 families.

According to another old-timer, the lane has changed little since then, apart from a hotel built about 40 years ago on the site of a small Guan Yu temple in the middle of the lane. "During the Republic of China, there were two small theaters located here as well," he recalled. He told me after 1949, No.5 was occupied by the fire department and a police station before it became a da za yuan (meaning a place where many families share in one courtyard) as it is now.

Despite its grim past, Li, the 30-year-old migrant worker I spoke to, had no qualms. She saw me taking photos and told me her only concern is that the hutong would wind up on the demolition hit list, and that it would be my fault. "Our former residence was also in a hutong nearby," said Li. "It was demolished just after somebody came and took photos. If it's the same case here, then we'll have to find somewhere else to live again!"