In the twenty-seventh year of Guangxu's reign, the snow fell especially early and hard in the Xinchou year.
The north wind carried flakes of goose feather snow, blowing like a knife through the adobe wall in the southern part of Zhili Province, wrapping the thin figure huddled under the wall even tighter. Chen Shanhe stuffed his purple-frozen hands into the ragged cotton-padded jacket. There was no cotton wool in the cotton-padded jacket, only some dry thatch. When the wind blew, it poured in along the holes. The cold made his teeth chatter.
