Autumn, the twenty-fourth year of Jiajing.
The sun in Shanyin County, Shaoxing Prefecture is as poisonous as a red-hot iron. In the sun-cracked fields, dead rice stalks curl up with scorched edges and break into powder when the wind blows. Chen Yan was woken up by the burning sensation in his throat. He opened his eyes suddenly, and what he saw was not the familiar white walls of the hospital, but the blackened wooden beams. The old cloth tents hanging on the beams were still stained with a few spots of mildew.
