The sky was dark and the land was dim, mountains draped in snow. A winding official road cut through the ranges and snowy plains.
The blizzard carried fine hailstones, and the wind was like a blade, scraping skin and shaving bone. The cold was piercing.
Three fine horses galloped south along the official road.
Their hurried hooves kicked up clouds of snow that met the blizzard in mid-air, forming a fine, straight plume that trailed behind them.
Feng Bei's party of four had abandoned their carriage by the roadside. Donning heavy cloaks they had prepared beforehand, they braved the storm.
"Huuuh…"
Exhaling a plume of white, icy mist, Feng Bei rode behind Zheng Xiu, silent for the entire journey.
Zheng Xiu's feelings were a tangled mess.
'I never thought the nightmare would come true.'
