Xin Aixi Transmigrates to Western Wei

In the autumn of the third year of Yong'an, by the Wei River on the outskirts of Chang'an, a cold rain had just passed. Puddles of varying depths filled the muddy road, and the wind swept dried yellow grass into the ramshackle shelters the refugees had built. Xin Aixi woke shivering. This was no chill from an exhibition hall's air conditioning, but a bitter wind that smelled of earth and stung her cheeks. The straw beneath her was stiff and damp.