In the stable in the backyard of the Chengnan Station, the sour smell of grass mixed with livestock manure hit the nose. Dong Daye opened his eyes suddenly, and the dull pain in the back of his head made him take a breath. What he saw was the mottled wooden beams, a few bunches of dried mugwort hanging, the sound of mules and horses snorting in his ears, and people arguing in ancient Chinese with a strong accent that he could barely understand.
