The cold winter wind kept blowing against the window lattice as if it was free of charge. The wind was like a knife.
Su Chenzhou sat up from the bed with a bang, and all his sleepiness disappeared.
"Brother... Brother..."
In the darkness, his sister Su Wanniang's crying voice came over, like a cat's claws scratching his heart.
Su Chenzhou quickly reached out to touch the oil lamp on the bedside to light it.
When the dim light came on, they saw Su Wanniang's face as white as paper, her tears falling straight down, like beads with broken strings.
"Wan Niang, what's wrong? Are you having a nightmare?" Su Chenzhou was so distressed that he held her in his arms and asked softly.
"I... I heard... Mr. Zhao from the accounting office, and... And my wife... They were talking... About selling me to the mines..." Su Wanniang was crying so hard that she couldn't speak at all.
Su Chenzhou's heart suddenly seemed to be tightly grasped by a big invisible hand.
Mine?
