The first snowfall of the winter break turned the entire city of Beijing into a blank white canvas.
At the entrance of Beijing University, a green military jeep parked conspicuously under the old locust tree. The bright red characters on the license plate indicated its distinguished origin.
Gu Yanshen was not waiting in the car.
He was dressed in a neatly pressed military uniform without a hat, revealing his crisp short hair. He was bending over, loading a bulky white sack into the jeep's trunk, the sack emblazoned with the phrase "Special Supply Flour" in red letters.
Several things were already piled beside the car.
A sack of "Northeast Rice" of the same specification, an entire strip of tightly wrapped cured meat weighing over a dozen pounds, several bottles of wheat milk essence rare in the market, and a thick stack of various tickets and vouchers.
This was nearly a year's worth of supplies for an average working family.
