The blizzard for several days came to a halt on the night of the sixteenth, and the convoy of bridals would continue to set off tomorrow.

At the beginning of the heavy snowfall, the vast night sky seemed more and more lonely, dim starlight, a bleak white full moon hung low in the west, and the bright cold light reflected the snow, illuminating this dilapidated city after the war.

This is Guanshiyi, the eastern frontier of the Jin Kingdom. Overlooking the entire city from the beacon platform, you can see a long river that has been blocked by ice and snow passing through the city. Along the long river called Zhangwei to the east for several miles, there is a stone tablet of vicissitudes of life and simplicity, after that tablet, it is the world of Qijun Jinggong. For decades, for the location of that monument, the Qi and Jin countries have fought countless battles large and small, bringing endless despair and bloody rain to this city. Now in the city, except for the soldiers stationed in the city, all the people can run away, and the rest are old, weak, sick and disabled, waiting to die.

In the post house in the city, Mingyun sat in front of the wide open window with long black hair scattered and a fiery fox fur, quietly looking at the bright moon in the square frame, and letting the cold wind pour into the house. Her thin and pale cheeks had an unnatural rouge flush, her red lips had been erased, her dull lips were still dyed with a bit of bright red, and under the moonlight, her thin figure showed a sense of despair and decadence, and at the corners of her fiery red skirt, an unusually gorgeous and complicated crown of gold beads was thrown to the ground.

There was a lot of fluffy fresh snow piled up on the eaves of the windowsill, which was blown up by the cold wind, drifted into the house like a light snow, fell on Mingyun's body, and melted in an instant. On the small desk on the left is a bronze lotus lamp with rough workmanship, the lamp oil is almost at the bottom, and the small flame is wilting. Mingyun looked at the small flames that were swaying in the wind under the moonlight, and was stunned, as if he had seen the fire, which had passed for several months, but he remembered it vividly, and he had never forgotten a single detail, and he could even recall the smell of burnt flesh and blood he smelled when he fled.

It was snowing heavily that day, everything was sluggish and slaughtering, the other party's men and horses were approaching the city, the sound of horns, the neighing of war horses and the sound of iron cavalry fighting filled the ears, and only one cloud platform remained in Handan City. The arrows with the tail of fire flew up round after round, passed through the closed doors and windows on the gimbal, and lit the pillars, curtains, carpets, and a sea of fire. Mingyun couldn't help but reach out to the flames, as if he saw someone's figure in the fire and wanted to grab it.

The cold wind blew the snow from the window, and the lights went out ——, hiss.

The dimming of the light in an instant was like a mechanism, which suddenly touched the bottom of Mingyun's heart, and suddenly a strong feeling hit her like a blizzard, with a low cry, she clutched the placket of her chest with both hands, crying painfully and suppressedly, and gradually knelt down into a ball, and the long hair that was scattered behind her fell, covering her side face full of tears.

The moon is shining, and tonight is destined to be unable to sleep.

The cold wind is still cold, blowing into people's hearts, and that heart is as warm and cold as winter. It's just that the fire in some people's hearts will never be extinguished, and some people's hearts will be colder than this midwinter.