Winter in Heyin began with the first snowfall.
This year's first snow came earlier than in years past. The north wind howled and moaned, and even hearing it was enough to make one feel cold to the bone. Fortunately, the snowfall wasn't too heavy. But as a chemistry exam question once put it: "Snow doesn't feel cold; melting snow does."
The commoners had only limited cold-weather clothing with them.
The valley had plenty of food, but it wasn't suitable for wintering over. So, even though they knew the timing wasn't ideal, Shen Tang and Qi Shan discussed it and decided to lead their troops into Heyin early.
After nearly twenty days of covert sweeps, recruitment, and training, along with the troops they already had, their numbers had barely risen to two thousand. With another thousand men Zhao Feng had kindly lent them, a force of three thousand wasn't too shabby. It was just about passable.
They had met their preliminary target.
The official road through Heyin.
That day, fine snow drifted down from the sky.
Near noon, several thousand figures appeared on the official road.
They were a strange group.
The outermost ring marched in orderly formation. Most were young or middle-aged men dressed in identical or similar clothes, with the occasional glint in their eyes and a faint Killing Intent between their brows. Some rode horses, others walked. They wore half-new, half-worn cloth armor and carried an assortment of weapons.
They remained alert at all times for any sudden danger from outside.
The people in the inner ring, by contrast, were thin and haggard old folks, women, and children. Their clothes had been patched and mended countless times.
The entire procession crawled along the official road like a slow-moving worm. Aside from footsteps and hoofbeats, there was only the