哎哟一声，许晴眼前直晃，等缓过神来，发现自己正躺在一堆干草上，身上盖着块破旧的棉被，那股子味儿……嗯，有点像牛棚。她猛地坐起身，脑袋还有点懵，低头看了看，光溜溜的脚踩在泥泞地上，“我的老天爷，我这是哪儿？等等……泥泞地？干草？

memory like a flood, images flashing before her eyes. Last night, the commotion, the fire, her desperate escape... and then darkness. Now, she was back? Or somewhere else entirely?

She pushed aside the rough blanket, revealing a low-roofed hut made of mud bricks. The ceiling was thatched with straw, and the air was thick with the smell of manure and damp earth. From the window, a sliver of sky showed a bright blue, almost blinding in contrast to the dim interior.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice hoarse. "Is anyone here?"

Only silence answered her. The hut was empty, save for a small wooden table and two chairs pushed against the wall. On the table lay a bowl of lukewarm rice and a piece of dark bread, stale and dry.

My stomach growled loudly, reminding her she hadn't eaten in over 24 hours. She grabbed the food and started eating quickly, mechanically. The bread was hard as a rock, but at least it was food.