Ouyang Daye felt that the most outrageous thing in his life was not that he was still working as a "department-level official" (self-proclaimed area team leader) at the express delivery station at the age of thirty, but that he was currently huddled in a cardboard box covered with "fragile" labels, listening to the howling wind outside that seemed to tear the world apart.
"What are you doing..." He struggled to kick open the lid of the box, and was suddenly filled with a mouthful of sand. When I looked up, my eyes almost popped out of my head - where could I find the familiar back alley of the express station? In front of him were the rolling khaki mountains, with a few clumps of withered grass growing here and there on the bare slopes. The wind carried the gravel and hit his face, which was as painful as being hit by a pebble.
