Early the next morning, the warm sun of early winter gently bathed the earth, and the sky was clear!
On the desolate snow mountain plateau, a team was marching along the winding mountain ridges. On this vast, lonely wilderness of snow mountains, they appeared so small, like a tiny black line insignificant between heaven and earth. The marching speed of the team was not fast, imbued with a morose mood, like a defeated army.
This mournful army hadn't noticed ten kilometers behind them, a few people were hiding behind the mountain ridge, observing. One of them raised a binoculars with a calm expression; it was Luo Zheng and his companions who survived the catastrophe. Early in the morning, everyone climbed out of the snow cave, rushed to the mountaintop to discover the enemy had moved out, quickly circled around to catch up, tightly tailing this group.
