In the early winter season, the vast land of Bozhou seemed to be shrouded in a heavy haze, with a chilling aura pervading the air.
The piercing cold wind was like sharp blades, howling and sweeping across the rugged mountains, as if to choke all life in this frigid season.
The trees in the mountain forest trembled under the relentless assault of the gale. The dry branches rubbed against each other, producing creaking sounds, lamenting the desolation of this land.
The withered yellow leaves fluttered down like butterflies with broken wings, paving a mottled and desolate carpet on the ground, draping the land in a cloak of sorrow.
The sky was dark and low, leaden clouds dense, like an invisible giant mountain pressing heavily on people's hearts, enveloping heaven and earth in a stifling and dead silent atmosphere. A suffocating chill lingered in the air, making even breathing difficult.
Guo Dunping, after this battle, was already scared out of his wits, his courage shattered.
