Dusk

The first snows landed on the ancient walls of Shangjing. The black and green contrasted beautifully on the palace hall but did not bring the slightest sense of charm. No one took pity on the thin layer of white snow on the square that was like a woolen blanket. The day had just grown bright. More and more officials began to step on it heartlessly, churning the white snow into mud.

The faces of these officials were solemn and they walked quickly, without any interest or leisure to appreciate the snow. The battle reports from the South flowed into Shangjing endlessly to the government offices by the Royal Palace. The government offices were completely enveloped in a tense and oppressive atmosphere. Fortunately, it was not very chaotic.