The sky was faintly white, and smoke rose from every household in Zhang Family Village, as though the entire place was waking up. The strong wind from last night had stopped. The early morning breeze was chilly and bone-piercing, yet it didn't affect the villagers who were used to early bedtimes and early risings. They began busying themselves with their private plots. On the road, men and women were seen hurrying back and forth with water buckets. At the village entrance, people were already queuing at the old well. Faintly, one could hear men speaking crudely, occasionally women bantering back, while bystanders laughed in amusement.
For decades, Old Captain, with his long tobacco pipe, had taken his usual stroll along the village's fields. He looked at the barren, empty land without any crops. The temperature had suddenly dropped last night, and it would snow in a few days.
