Qinsidun City, a city-state perched high in the mountains, was surrounded by blizzards all year round.
Cold wind swept across the steep ridges, howling as it danced with the snowflakes it stirred up.
Across the vast, canvas-like snowy highlands, pure-white snowflakes drifted through the air. Each one seemed alive as it gently spiraled before finally settling upon the endless snowy plains.
Yet traces of life could still be found in this snowy wilderness.
Animal tracks could occasionally be seen, gradually covered once more by the wind and snow. At the end of one trail, an elk stood quietly in the snow, gazing in one direction. Soon, it seemed to have noticed something and suddenly fled like an arrow loosed from a bow.
The wind and snow continued to howl.
The undulations and textures of the endless snowfield gradually became clearer. Far in the distance, where the elk had fled, a tiny figure struggling against the wind and snow seemed to be moving slowly.
It was barely noticeable at first, but as time passed, the figure's steps became increasingly frantic and visible. Every so often, he stumbled, nearly falling into the snow.
Amid heavy breathing, the young man in a thick overcoat finally threw down his suitcase. Inside spilled the only set of noble clothes he had that still looked presentable, along with the identification papers proving he was from the south.
His skin was nearly as white as the surrounding snow. His eyes were large and bright, filled with panic and anxiety. His flaxen hair was as smooth as that of a young noblewoman from a warm and prosperous southern city-state, but now the wind and snow had left it in complete disarray.
Behind him, four or five agile men were pursuing him at full speed.
They wore thick hunting