The night deepened, visibility became increasingly poor, the biting wind died down somewhat, but the temperature in the snow canyon dropped even lower. A few snowflakes danced with the wind, drifting into the distance, while some birds returning to roost let out a sharp cry as they swept across the sky, adding a hint of life to the otherwise deathly silent canyon. The snow's whiteness was dazzling and eye-watering; prolonged exposure could make one's eyes ache and tear up, impairing vision.
Luo Zheng knew he didn't have much time left, as the enemy would soon find a spot to camp. He quickened his pace to catch up, closing the distance to just seven or eight meters. Luo Zheng glanced at the enemy further ahead, conveniently obscured by a slope; the canyon turned, and they couldn't see his side. He felt a surge of satisfaction.
