It was late spring in the twenty-third year of Qianlong's reign. The Earth Temple, which had been abandoned for many years outside Wu County, Suzhou Prefecture, was being shrouded in a pattering spring rain. There was air leakage everywhere in the temple, and the cobwebs in the corners were blown precariously by the wind. There were a few pieces of withered yellow thatch scattered on the dirt floor, and the air was filled with the smell of musty mixed with wet soil.
Yang Aixi was awakened by a violent cough. She opened her eyes suddenly, and the raindrops falling from her head happened to fall on her cheeks, and the cold touch made her shiver. This is not the scene of the "Xingyan Workshop" annual meeting that she is familiar with - there are no flashing lights, no noisy crowds, and no training schedule for next year that she has just finalized. Instead, there was a rough and scratchy coarse cloth, the hard mud beneath him, and the confusing unfamiliar memories in his mind.
"Ahem..." Another cough came, and Yang Aixi subconsciously pressed her chest with her hand, but she touched a handful of thin bones. She lowered her head and looked at herself. The coarse cloth on her body was full of patches, the cuffs were polished and shiny, and the exposed wrists were so thin that they seemed to break if they were bent. This is not her body!
