Traveling Through Ancient Times: Refusing to Trade My Sister for Two Bags of Millet

The cold wind doesn't blow in, it seeps in. Like countless thin needles soaked in ice water, they silently penetrated through the cracks in the earth wall, and then pierced Yang Hui's exposed skin. He shuddered violently, and his consciousness was forcibly pulled back from the chaos. When I opened my eyes, I saw a low, dim roof, made of crooked wood and thick thatch. A few tenacious spider webs hung in the corners, trembling slightly in the draft. A mixture of musty smell, earthy smell and some kind of indescribable smell of poverty filled his nostrils domineeringly.