Hukou Waterfall

In the cold autumn season, Hukou Waterfall possessed a scenery unlike any other.

Before the morning sun rose, white mist filled the roaring, surging waters of the Yellow River's Hukou Waterfall. The vapor soared into the clouds and joined the sky; from ten li away, the thunderous roar of the waves could be heard clearly. The strangest sights nearby were boats sailing across dry riverbeds and smoke rising from the water.

Looking toward the Great Wall on the Loess Plateau, the merchants of the ancient Silk Road were no longer what they had once been.

Literati who loved wandering the world often lingered at Hukou Waterfall, hoping to draw inspiration from the Yellow River's wondrous scenery and compose immortal verses that would make their names known across the land.

The inns near Hukou Waterfall remained open as usual, untouched by the corpse disaster beyond the pass.

The autumn morning was bitterly cold. Attended by his bookboy, a middle-aged scholar put on heavy clothes and went out. Before the sunrise, the two hurried toward the waterfall, wishing to experience the Yellow River's beauty as the rising sun emerged.

Fortunately, the day was clear and windless, though the cold dew by the water was particularly heavy.

The mist hung like smoke. Before they even reached the riverbank, it had soaked his eyebrows and headscarf, chilling him to the bone. The middle-aged scholar suddenly regretted coming. He wanted to return to the inn, drink a cup of hot wine, and wait for sunrise, but he could not bring himself to lose face. He could only grit his teeth, wrap his clothes tighter, and trudge onward with his head lowered, his bookboy shivering just as badly behind him.

The closer they came to Hukou, the louder the roar became. The middle-aged scholar felt that