Gong Aixi woke up from the cold.
The dull pain in the back of the neck had not subsided, but the tip of the nose first caught a strange smell - a damp musty smell mixed with the dryness of straw, and occasionally a few wisps of the sour smell of horse manure. She opened her eyes suddenly and saw a dusty thatched roof. A few bunches of withered and yellow grass stems hung down from the gaps in the rafters, swaying gently in the draft.
"Hiss..." She wanted to push herself up to sit up, but her arms were so weak that they seemed like they had no bones. As soon as she lifted them half an inch, she slammed the blanket back under her. What kind of bedding was this? It was clearly a pile of hard hay wrapped in a shiny piece of burlap, which made the skin on her arms numb.
This is not her apartment, let alone the sofa in the company pantry.
