The wailing wind and snow carried a mournful sharpness.
Li Che was dressed in tight black battle attire, wearing a straw hat, his expression solemn to the extreme.
His great-uncle's family followed closely by his side.
The group trudged through the increasingly frenzied wind and snow, unable to even process the terror of the slaughter that had erupted in the small courtyard earlier. All they wished for was to flee to Xu's Wood Carving Shop.
Walking on a long street paved with green stone, the weather kept most pedestrians scarce, their heads down, hurrying along.
Throughout the journey, no one spoke a single word. Everyone remained silent.
Suddenly.
Li Che abruptly stopped in his tracks, his foot pushing the snow into a small mound as he halted.
Through the hazy snowfall, traces of smoke and fire lingered in the air.
