The Northern lands get cold early; it is now already early winter.
With the leaves fallen, geese fly south, and the north wind brings chill to the river.
The early winter morning is very cold, and a thick fog has risen over the river. Gu Chengyu stands at the bow of the boat, gazing at the vast white scenery, the piercing cold hitting his face.
The sky is still not fully bright, and Gu Chengyu looks at the hazy sky, wondering if it will snow.
Gu Chengyu is somewhat worried—the boat is still docked by the riverbank, and in such thick fog, it would be impossible to sail, as it is hard to discern directions. If it were to snow, the temperature would plummet, and the river might freeze, preventing the boat from moving.
Sun Xian came out of the room and saw Gu Chengyu standing at the bow, looking at the river, pondering something.
