The cold wind howled, rampaging across the plateau.
Ji Xinghuo rode on Qing Hong's back, looking around, only to see an endless expanse of raging wind. The ground was covered in frost, and every mountain peak within sight, whether near or far, was blanketed in snow, shrouded in frosty mist—a harsh yet magnificent sight.
"Huff..."
He exhaled a breath of warm air, rubbing his hands together to bring a hint of warmth and muttered, "This damn weather!"
It had been ten days since he left Sky Falling Cliff, entering the middle of "Fog Moon." The weather was getting colder, with temperatures around minus ten degrees Celsius even during the day.
Low temperature was actually okay, but the wind was too strong.
The bone-chilling wind felt like knives against the skin. Unfortunately, disguised as a Highlander, his armor provided no warmth. The only somewhat useful thing was a bear skin cloak, which could only cover half of his body, and his beard was already full of frost.
