The snow in Xianping Prefecture was heavier than the blizzard in Harbin in Xing Daye's memory.
Lead-gray clouds hung low over the city, freezing the rammed-earth walls like blue-black iron. He wrapped himself tightly in the short brown linen that had been patched three times, and his knuckles turned white from holding half a piece of frozen rice cake. The snow on the street was up to his ankles, and it creaked when he stepped on it. Mixed with the crisp sound of the Jurchen cavalry's horse hooves crushing the ice crust in the distance, it was like the customer complaint call he hated most in the first half of his life - sharp and with nowhere to hide.
"Han dog, give way!"
When the rough roar came over the wind and snow, Xing Dagoose almost instinctively shrank to the corner. Three armored Jurchen soldiers rode through the middle of the street on short, stout war horses. The snow foam splashed by the iron stirrups hit his face, which was cold and bone-chilling. He saw that the mace hanging on the waist of the cavalryman on the far left was still stained with dark red blood. Against the backdrop of the white snow, it looked like the fluorine leaking refrigerator evaporator he dealt with last week. It was stained with rust and had a rotting smell.
"These killers." An old man carrying a load of goods huddled next to him and spat bloody spit. "Yesterday in Nanfang, because a Han woman didn't kneel down to greet her in time, she threw her child to death on a stone mill..."
