The cold wind, sharp as a knife, cuts mercilessly through Heng Mountain with its biting blade. The trees on the mountain have long shed their leaves, leaving only bare branches trembling in the wind, struggling bitterly to resist the bone-piercing chill.
Thick snow covers the ground, each step sinking up to the ankle, making every stride through the snow extraordinarily difficult.
From a distance, the occasional howl of wild beasts adds to the desolation and loneliness.
The howling echoes in the vast mountain valley, as if telling the tale of this land's solitude and bleakness.
A few dark clouds drift by in the sky, blocking the already dim sunlight, making the peak of Heng Mountain even colder and more forbidding.
The sunlight is obstructed by the clouds, stripping away the last hint of warmth, leaving only endless cold and darkness.
In this world dominated by cold winds, everything falls into an endless silence and chill.
