Fei Bai stepped out of the inn only to find out it had started to snow outside.
The accumulated snow had already surpassed the tops of his shoes.
The streets were deserted, without a single person or even a dog in sight.
In such weather, even beggars would find the warmest place they could to stay in.
Fei Bai took a deep breath, the piercing cold air suppressing the cough that was beginning to stir within him again.
He gripped his sword tightly, straightened his cloak, and limped into the alley next to the inn, proceeding on the path he had previously scouted out.
After scaling several high walls in a row, Fei Bai could already gaze in the distance upon the brilliantly lit Profound Wind Tower.
He hid in a concealed corner, an abnormal flush creeping across his face.
Fei Bai knew he was probably about to die.
