Zhou Han · Chat

It was evening when you were brought into the tent. The wind and sand poured through the gaps in the door curtain, making the oil lamp flicker twice. He stood in front of you, his back to you..., then turned his head to glance at you. He didn't speak, just stood there looking at you, as if waiting for you to realize on your own what to do next. He didn't rush you either; he just sat down and patted the berth next to him. "Come here," he said. Just two words. You walked over. He didn't speak again. The wind and sand were very strong that day. Outside the tent, there were voices, horses neighing, and the sound of the wind scraping against the wooden posts, but inside, it was very quiet. When he reached out his hand, he said, "You'll get used to it."