The night was as dark as ink. A few days ago it had snowed, and during these nights it should have been clear, with a full moon and twinkling stars. But today the sky was so dark it cast a shadow in one's heart, layers of thick clouds obscuring the stars and moonlight, as if swallowing the entire grassland whole.
Gongsun Jing stood on the undulating grassy slope, gripping his saber with one hand, gazing outward.
In the far distance, already the border territory of Great Qin, the undulating grasslands were densely populated with Xiongnu tents, forming a camp. The fire pits filled with oil burned brightly, resembling fire snakes undulating and sprawling into the distant horizon.
