Sold immediately after wearing it? I took my family and fled the famine.

"Xing'er, is that enough?"

"That's enough, Third Uncle, you rest. I'll make it up."

Jiang Xing spread the dry grass on the ground, picked out the long and tough ones, and wove them into a straw curtain. The straw curtain wasn't very pretty, but it was enough to block the wind.

She draped the straw mat over the cow's back, tied it with a rope, and then cut a piece of old oilcloth from the cart and draped it over the cow, covering its head and back. The cow mooed and flicked its tail.

She wove a few smaller straw mats and placed them around the oxcart to block the wind from coming in from below.

Third Uncle watched her busy work without saying a word, but there was admiration in his eyes.

When other villagers saw Jiang Xing's family weaving straw mats for cattle, they followed suit.

"Yes, it's getting cold, and the oxen need to be kept warm too. If the oxen get sick from the cold, who will pull the cart?"

"My mule also needs to be covered up; it won't be able to walk if it gets too cold."

"Let's go cut grass! There's plenty on that hillside over there!"

In no time, the men took sickles to cut grass, and the women squatted on the ground to weave straw mats; the camp was bustling with activity.

Liu the carpenter was skilled; the straw curtains he wove were much prettier than Jiang Xing's. He even wove a canopy for his own cart, propped up with branches, so that people could sleep underneath.

Zhang Gensheng was strong. He cut two large bundles of dry grass, threw them onto the cart, covered them with an oilcloth, and that was it.

His wife thought he was too rough, so she squatted on the ground and wove straw mats herself, and she wove them quite well.

It was getting dark, and the wind was still blowing, but it was a little weaker than in the afternoon.

Jiang Xing started a fire, and the firelight illuminated a small area, with heat wafting out.

She took wild ginger out of her basket, sliced ​​a few pieces, threw them into a pot, added water, and boiled ginger water. Once the ginger water was ready, everyone had a bowl, and even the cow was given a basin of warm water with a small handful of salt added.

The family drank ginger water and felt a little warmer.

Jiang Xing started cooking dinner again. She peeled the chestnuts and cooked them with brown rice to make chestnut porridge, which the four of them ate together.

By the time the porridge was cooked, it was completely dark. The family sat around the fire, eating their meals. The firelight shone on their faces, and their shadows flickered on the stone wall behind them.

The little calf took a sip of the porridge and its eyes lit up: "Sister, it's sweet."

"These chestnuts are sweet," Jiang Xing said.

The calf didn't say anything more and focused on drinking its porridge.

Jiang Xing also lit a small fire for the ox, not too far from the oxcart, so that the heat could drift over. The ox lay down beside the fire, head down, eyes half-closed.

Night fell, and the campsite grew quiet.

The fire had burned down to embers, its dark red glow flickering in the night. Jiang Xing sat by the fire, a short knife resting on his lap, ready to keep watch.

"Xing'er," her third uncle called.

"Um."

"I'll keep watch for the first half of the night while you sleep, and you'll relieve me for the second half."

Jiang Xing glanced at his third uncle, whose face was full of fatigue: "It's alright, it's just that things get more uneasy in the second half of the night. I can keep watch by myself, you still have to catch the carriage."

"It's just driving an oxcart, what's so tiring about it?" Uncle San insisted, so Jiang Xing didn't say anything more.

Jiang Xing handed him the dagger: "Third Uncle, take this."

Third Uncle took the dagger, held it in his hand, and nodded.

Jiang Xing crawled into bed and lay down next to Zhang Shi and Xiao Niu. The blankets were thick, and although the dry grass beneath her was stiff, it kept out the cold air from the ground. She closed her eyes and fell asleep in no time.

She was a light sleeper, and after an unknown amount of time, she woke up.

Third Uncle was still sitting, holding a short knife in his hand, his eyes fixed on the darkness, the firelight reflecting on his face.

"Third Uncle, it's my turn." Jiang Xing popped out.

Third Uncle handed the dagger back to her, nodded, and went to sleep.

Jiang Xing sat by the fire, placed the dagger on his knees, and stretched his stiff neck.

The wind had died down a bit in the first half of the night, so she added a few more pieces of firewood to the fire, and it reignited, sending up a wave of heat.

She looked up at the sky, but the clouds were still thick, and she couldn't see the stars or the moon.

She suddenly felt a cool sensation on her face, raised her hand to touch it, and realized it was raining.

Scattered, the raindrops hit her face and the oilcloth, making faint sounds that were almost inaudible unless you listened carefully.

It only lasted for a short while before stopping.

Jiang Xing sat by the fire, looking at the dark sky. Those few raindrops seemed like some kind of omen, coming and going quietly, leaving nothing behind except for the slight unease in her heart.

She stirred the firewood to make it burn brighter.

The firelight shone on her face, and her expression was calm.

Jiang Xing stayed up until the middle of the night. As dawn approached, he could no longer stay awake. He leaned against the oxcart wheel and dozed off for a while. The fire was still burning, its flickering flames barely visible in the morning light.

Her eyelids were too heavy, and when she opened her eyes again, it was already getting light.

The camp was quiet. Jiang Xing stood up, stretched his stiff neck, and looked around. The ground was covered in white.

It's frosted.

A thin layer, spread on the withered grass, stones, and the roof of the oxcart, was white and fluffy, like a layer of salt had been sprinkled on it. The air was so cold that it hurt to breathe it in, and the exhaled air turned into a thick white fog.

The fire was about to go out, so she quickly added some firewood. After the fire was burning brightly, she rubbed her hands together to warm her fingers.

She picked up her water bag and walked towards the stream.

People were already drawing water by the stream. Zhao Dasao from Chenjiagou squatted on a rock, clutching her water bag. Her face was pale, her lips were dry and cracked, and her fingers were swollen like radishes.

She saw Jiang Xing, nodded, but didn't speak; her mouth was too cold to open.

Aunt Sun from Zhoujiazhai was squatting nearby. When she stood up after drawing water, her legs went weak and she almost fell into the stream.

Jiang Xing reached out to help her up; Aunt Sun's hand was icy cold, like holding a block of ice.

"This weather is deadly," Aunt Sun said, trembling, before leaving with her water bag.

Jiang Xing squatted down to fetch water. The stream water was colder than yesterday. Her hands felt like they were being cut by a knife when she put them in. After she finished fetching the water, she stood up and saw several women squatting in the frost-covered ground digging for wild vegetables. Their fingers were red from the cold, and they had to breathe on them several times to dig up a single vegetable.

She didn't look at it much and walked back with the water bag.

Back at the camp, Uncle San was already up, squatting by the fire to warm himself.

He looked up at the sky: "It's going to snow."

Third Uncle said this with a firm tone.

Jiang Xing took out the chestnuts he had picked yesterday from his basket and began to peel them. He put the peeled chestnut meat into the edge of the fire to roast, and soon the sweet aroma of chestnuts filled the fire.

Zhang also woke up. She tidied up the quilt and put away all the dry grass. She limped, but her face was expressionless.

She squatted down, took the chestnuts from Jiang Xing's hand, and slowly peeled them.

The calf was the last to wake up. He crawled out of bed, his hair sticking up and his face flushed from sleep. He squatted down next to the fire.

"It's so warm."

Xiao Niu took the chestnuts that Zhang had peeled, took a bite, and found the chestnuts to be soft and sweet. He ate them with relish.