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Chu Zhiyuan stood at the foot of the mountain, surveying the majestic snow mountain.
The mountain was several thousand meters high, similar to Mount Tai he climbed in his previous life.
Ordinary snow peaks often have lush greenery at the foot, which becomes sparser as one ascends, eventually replaced by snow, like a forest wearing snow clothes.
This mountain was entirely covered in snow from top to bottom, with no greenery in sight.
Chu Zhiyuan's gaze continued upwards, looking towards the sky.
The sun had just risen, casting ten thousand beams of golden light slanting across the snow peak, dyeing the eastern side golden, splendid and dreamlike.
He took a deep breath, the air fresh and cold, as if it had just snowed.
The scent of snow lingered around.
He looked down at his combat uniform, feeling like he was dressed too lightly.
At the beginning, it was fine, but the further he went, the colder he felt.
