My back is so cold.
It's like sticking to the surface of a glacier in the coldest winter, with a chill running down the spine and into the brain.
There was a strange smell lingering at the tip of my nose, like low-quality powder mixed with some kind of chemical preservative, plus a bit of the sweetness of rotting lilies.
Liu Jinghong did not open his eyes.
The breathing rate must be controlled within four times per minute. This is the instinct gained from lying in wait in the snow for three days and nights.
Hearing reaches out like feelers.
Three steps ahead to the left, his breathing was heavy and turbid. He was an old man with a smell of old tobacco.
Seven steps away from the door, his breathing is steady and long, his heartbeat is slightly faster, and he is in a state of high alert.
The nearest one is on the right and is a woman.
The protagonist is awesome