"Fuck, this weather!"
Lin Feng spat and wrapped the old jacket that had been washed white tightly around him. The cuffs of the jacket were frayed, revealing the dusty lining inside. When the wind blew, the cold made people shiver. The sky in the wasteland is always gray, like a big iron pot with its mouth turned upside down, making people breathless. A few unfinished buildings stood there in the distance, their windows long gone, and their dark eyes staring at the ruins below.
