Beiyuan, Zhanghe three years, autumn.
Hou Daye woke up from the cold.
A biting chill came out of the straw pile under him, mixed with a musty smell and an indescribable fishy smell, which made him cough violently. In front of him was a low adobe wall, with light leaking from the roof. A few beams of dim sunlight hit the ground slantingly, illuminating the dust flying in the air - and a few fat mice, scurrying around his feet as if no one was around.
"Fuck..." He wanted to curse, but his throat was as dry as sandpaper, and he could only make a hoarse sound.
