Zhong Aixi was woken up by the biting cold.
The first second he regained consciousness was not the smell of hospital disinfectant, but the smell of damp earth mixed with the burnt smell of some withered grass. She opened her eyes suddenly and saw a low thatched roof with a few crumbling black wooden beams. The "mattress" spread under her body was made of rough linen and wrapped in a thin layer of hay, which made her back hurt.
"Cough... Cough..." Her throat was so dry that it felt like it was about to split. She tried to hold herself up, but found a sharp pain in her right arm. Looking down, she saw that her arm was wrapped in dirty cloth, and the blood stains that had seeped out had turned black. They were obviously old injuries.
This wasn't anywhere she was familiar with.
Fragments of memories before traveling came back instantly: her wastewater treatment project in a chemical park in Jiangsu was now
