Duanli River

The howling north wind carried snow particles and whipped the abandoned earthen kilns outside Linqing City. In the kiln, a few broken bricks barely supported a pottery pot with a broken edge, in which boiled water was mixed with a few withered yellow vegetable leaves. Liu He's withered hands clenched the edge of the stove, her knuckles turning white from the exertion. Her cloudy eyes reflected the faint beating flames, and deeper was the despair that could not be resolved.