The north wind in the twelfth lunar month is like a knife tempered with ice, and it hurts like tearing on the face. Hou Daye huddled in the thin quilt, and the sound of chattering teeth almost drowned out the sound of the howling wind outside the window. She remembered that she had just finished calculating the last surrogacy commission, and the numbers in the Excel spreadsheet were still jumping in front of her eyes. Why did she fall from an office building with a constant temperature of 20 degrees into this ghost place that was colder than the cold weather in the Northeast when she opened her eyes?
