After an autumn rain, the weather in the north suddenly turned cold, and the chill cut through the military district like a knife.
Every household began to worry about getting through the winter, and the women's conversations couldn't steer away from cotton ration tickets and next month's coal briquette quota. The atmosphere in the yard carried a tight anxiety.
Only in the little house of Lieutenant Gu Yanshen, was there an exception.
Inside, a fire burned with dry wood collected from the mountains, and the small stove made the whole room warm and cozy. Lin Wan Yi, wearing a thin shirt, was using fire tongs to pick two roasted sweet potatoes, crisp and aromatic, from the stove.
They were watered with spiritual spring water, not large, but sweet as if coated in honey.
She had just put the sweet potatoes on a plate when the door opened, a gust of cold wind bringing in a tall, upright figure.
It was Gu Yanshen.
