The white-haired wind in the north was blowing like a knife, carrying ice particles and driving them into the cracks of human bones.
Thirty miles north of the Black Stone Beacon is the Langya Valley, which is notoriously difficult to navigate. The black stone mountains on both sides were like rotten teeth split open by giant axes, jaggedly stuck in the snow. In this damn place, not even wild wolves are willing to urinate, let alone living people.
Gu Changye lay half tall in the snow, like a frozen corpse. The sheepskin jacket he was wearing was as torn as a sieve, and the hay stuffed inside had long since rotted, exuding an unpleasant musty smell. He was not wearing a felt hat, and his head was wrapped in several circles of dirty linen. Before the white breath he breathed rose, hoarfrost formed on his eyebrows and eyelashes.
"Hiss--" a gasping voice came from the side, followed by a suppressed curse: "Oh my God, you are going to freeze people to death! Nagano, I'm afraid I can't save my toes, and I'll lose all consciousness. Brother Ge, if I go back, I have to ask the old Wangtou in the kitchen to make me a bowl of hot haggis soup!"
