The north wind raged violently through the night, battering against the windows with a persistent clatter. Outside, vast flurries of snow seemed to be strewn by hand, swirling tumultuously.
Qi Taiguo woke from his dreams, having just dreamt of Cheng Su crying, her visage one of profound sadness and aggrievement, though he couldn't fathom why.
He pulled the cord of the electric light to check the time, it was already midnight. It was a pity that there was no telephone in the house; otherwise, he would have made a call back home. Now, he wondered what she was doing, whether she was still reading or had already gone to sleep, and if she had covered herself properly with the blanket?
In this winter weather, her hands and feet were always ice-cold. He had been the one to warm them up in recent days. Was it possible that she was so cold she couldn't sleep well?
