White Coffin Snow

Three hundred years after the sky split, Cangyuan was in ruins. In the snowfield of Beiyuan, a white fox squatted on the beam of the mourning hall, with a stolen sweet-scented osmanthus cake curled up in its tail. There were more than thirty people kneeling underneath, and two coffins were placed in the middle of the mourning hall. The older one pretends to be a master, and the younger one pretends to be a seven-year-old daughter. The white fox fell from the beam and turned into a white-haired boy. He handed over a bloody token and said something. "Seventeen skirmishers, in the mountain temple. Count me in." He called Hua Wuyou. A fox demon, half demon and half fox, with cold poison in his body. I have lived for two hundred years and searched for medicine for a hundred years, just to save my sister who was frozen in ice. He met a woman, her name was Shuangli, and she was a beast master. She climbed over the wall, pinched the back of his neck, and stuffed him into her arms. "You are still alive after being poisoned by the cold poison in your marrow. You are very lucky. From today on, you will follow me." He followed her. They lead a group of people who don't want to die and fight to find a way to survive in the apocalypse. Eleven people, eleven lives. Together they walked through the snowfield, through the split plains, and through the nine passes. We ate the rice cooked by Gu Tie together, grilled over the fire made by Uncle Zhao, and listened to the bird calls imitated by Zhao Xiaoman. Later they all died. The person who wants to live the most is the first to die. The most optimistic people fell to their knees and begged for mercy. The brightest people die in darkness. The strongest ones were skinned and exposed to the public. The most arrogant person dies on the eve of victory, while the soup is still hot and his fingers are still holding his tail. Hua Wuyou lived to the end. He stood in front of eleven tombstones, with Shuangli's beast-taming bell tied to his tail. Then he walked into the depths of the rift to find a spring he had never had. ——The fox has something to say