The autumn wind was like a knife, carrying broken leaves and digging into the hem of Cheng Yu's thin clothes. He huddled at the door of the drafty little woodshed in the backyard of his uncle's house, holding half a piece of dry and hard wheat cake in his hand. After chewing a few mouthfuls, it felt like a red-hot iron was pressed against his chest, which made him roll his eyes in discomfort.
"Cough, cough cough..."
A violent cough burst out of his throat. Cheng Yu quickly covered his mouth with a handkerchief. The air leaking from between his fingers smelled of rust. When the tension subsided, he looked down and saw a few dark red blood flowers printed on the plain handkerchief, along with tiny blood bubbles - well, the bones in his body were beginning to torment again.
He sighed, crumpled the handkerchief into a ball and stuffed it back into his arms, leaning against the cold earth wall to catch his breath. He had a weak body since he was a child. His parents left early, so he went to live with his uncle's family in the capital. He thought he could survive until he died, but no one in his uncle's family took him seriously.
