The winter of 2009 was unreasonably cold. The northwest wind carried fine snow foam and hit my face, which was as painful as needle pricks.
The abandoned coal yards on the outskirts of the city are covered with black debris, and the air is filled with thick soot. Chen Sui carried an old woven bag with many repairs on her back and bent down to pick up coal cores discarded by others. She wanted to save some and take them home to fill the coal stove to save a small amount of living expenses.
The back of the frozen hand was stained with black ash, and the fingertips were numb. The iron clip suddenly slipped off, and a clang broke the sound of wind in the wilderness.
There was movement not far away.
The young man stood in the wind and snow, wearing a dark-colored cotton-padded jacket that had been washed white. He had a tall and straight figure, and his brows were full of determination to avoid strangers. He also held half a bag of coal in his arms.
Zeppelin raised his eyes and looked over, the white mist he exhaled blurring the emotions in his eyes.
The two people, with the same worn-out shoes and the same ears reddened by the cold wind, were both running for a living, and met on a narrow road in a desolate coal field.
In the vast cold winter, the ground is covered with dust. This encounter is just a brief moment of warmth in the long suffering.
Purpose: Stop telling lies