A piercing honk exploded beside Su Yao's ear. She jolted awake, and the glaring sunlight made her instinctively raise a hand to shield her eyes. The moment her palm touched her forehead, she froze. This wasn't her hand! This hand, covered in tiny scars with dirt still under its nails, could not possibly be the one she had so carefully tended. "Su Yao, what are you spacing out for? Get off the truck!" a rough male voice bellowed beside her. Su Yao looked around in confusion and found herself sitting in the open bed of a battered truck, surrounded by several young people dressed in clothes from the 1960s or 1970s. The truck had stopped at a muddy village entrance, where the roadside leaned crookedly
