The cold winter was bitter, and heavy snow was falling.
But it was the Spring Festival, and Jiangling County was decorated with red lanterns everywhere, lively and bright. At night, the flames from the fires broke through the loneliness caused by the snow and wind. In this remote county surrounded by many high mountains, the town was as bright as a lamp, welcoming travelers returning home.
Snowflakes drifted down from the deep, quiet night, passing over the sealed mountains covered by snow and wind, drifting along the winding roads leading to the county town, crossing the old, weathered city walls, finally slowly falling into this lively place, mixing into the hearts of all the people.
"Steamed buns! Steamed buns for sale! Old Hu's steamed buns!"
"New year, new couplets! Sir, take a look at the ones I just finished writing."
"Sir, look at my lanterns, watch the flowers and horses. If you buy them, they will surely win the girl's heart."
"Look at these flowers, brought from the south, fresh and well kept. In this cold winter, fresh flowers are rare. If you buy them for the girl from the Li family, you might marry her this year."
"Well then, I'll take your lucky words. I'll buy all these flowers and send them to the Li family."
"Alright!"
Vendors shouted, people came and went, the scene was very lively.
But all the people walking around were men; hardly any women could be seen.
Slowly, Hanni's closed eyes opened, and the ancient-style night market scene spread before her dark pupils. Suddenly, fireworks appeared in the sky, bright sparks filling her eyes, as if lighting up something in an instant.
Hanni froze, confused and lost.
She didn't know what was happening, but she had heard every word of that strange conversation just now.
"Sir?"
"Marry her?"
Hanni: "..."
The street vendors' calls never stopped, and people were lost in the festive New Year atmosphere.
At the edge of the crowd, Hanni stood alone for a long time. No one knew when she had arrived, just like no one knew when this street suddenly had this person.
Wearing a down jacket that didn't fit this era, with a high ponytail hairstyle that didn't fit this era — she was out of place.
This world was just as out of place to her.
She stood dazed, her clear and bright eyes like a little deer in the forest, lighting up then dimming. Snowflakes spiraled down, landing on her hair ends, falling into her raised right palm. Her hand was fair and delicate, perfect to be held gently in someone's palm, with slender fingers. Only the middle and ring fingers showed rough skin, proof this was a hand that held a pen for years, struggling through countless exercises.
Hanni pressed her lips tight, stiffly turning her head to look around. Her little hands, red from the cold, nervously tugged her sleeve cuffs.
The snow kept falling, heavier and heavier.
Sometimes it landed on her clear, clean face, making her shiver from the cold. Hanni shook her head left and right quickly, fast enough to leave a blur, shaking the snow off her body. The snow here was really heavy. Being a girl from the south, she had never seen such big snow before. It seemed if she stayed any longer, she would be buried by the snow.
Just as she wanted to take a step forward into the brightly lit street ahead, the frozen snow on the ground made her feet stiff and cold, each step difficult and painful.
But what hurt even more was the sudden invasion of strange memories in her mind. These memory fragments surged like explosions in her head, making her heart beat wildly. The pain was so deep it cut to the bone. She slowly squatted down, curling her small body.
After calming down, she shakily put her hands on the ground and stood up, her eyes instantly red.
Whose memories were these? She had never lived through them.
Yet, as a bystander, she saw another version of herself living a lonely life in this strange world.
Jiangling County.
That was where the story had just begun.
Before she could think more, a pair of worn black cloth shoes stepped onto the snowy ground in front of her. The shoes were old and still had some mud on them. The stitching was tight, showing the shoemaker's skilled craftsmanship that made the shoes strong and durable.
Hanni's eyes moved up from the shoes. The same rough cloth covered a cotton jacket. There was no fancy embroidery, and even patches on the clothes. The gray, dusty robe looked shapeless but thick and warm. Looking further up, she saw an old man's face full of wrinkles but kind. His hair was black and white, tied up with a wooden hairpin, and he had a long beard, like the ancient people often shown on TV dramas.
Before Hanni could react, the old man said, "Young one, judging by your clothes, you must be from another place. Are you visiting family or friends? Why are you standing here alone?"
It was not strange the old man thought Hanni was a boy. After all, in this world there were more men than women. When a woman went out, many people usually followed her. No one would just find a delicate, homeless girl on the street so easily.
Though Hanni's face had not fully matured, she was pretty and clear. Even if the down jacket covered her body tightly, hiding any signs of youth, her face alone showed she was a girl. But since this was a world where men outnumbered women, it was easier to imagine she was a boy. Meeting a delicate, homeless girl on the street was almost impossible.
Hanni said, "I…"
Before she could think of what to say, the old man turned and started packing his stall.
Hanni watched him and noticed that the once bright street had grown quiet. Many people had left, shop lights were off, and "closed" signs hung. Vendors were packing up their stalls, and passersby hurried home. Only Hanni stood there, watching the busy scene.
So after the lively moments, the street became this quiet.
The old man pushed his small stall past her and stopped. Hanni saw a cloth sign on the wooden cart with a single character written on it.
"Hu," Hanni whispered to herself, suddenly recalling the first sound she heard when arriving in this world.
Hanni said, "Old Hu's steamed buns."
The old man was happy inside. In his whole life, the best thing he could do was making steamed buns for over half his life. If people remembered them, that was the greatest praise for his skill.
He turned and took the last steamed bun from the steamer, wrapped it in greaseproof paper, and put it into Hanni's hand.
"Here, child, take this. It's the only one left. If you like it, come back often."
The bun was a bit cold, but it was still warm in her frozen hands. Hanni held her hands close, hugged the bun to her chest, tears welling up and swirling in her eyes. She sniffed and thanked him, "Thank you, Grandpa Hu."
"Eat it quickly, then go home. It's freezing cold." He shivered as he said this and pushed his stall away.
Watching Grandpa Hu disappear around the corner, the tears Hanni held back finally spilled out. A sixteen-year-old girl crying alone in the snow felt very sad.
How could she not cry? She could not go home anymore.