The cold wind brushed through the valley, howling as if sobbing.
A procession wound its way along the steep, bare rocks of the mountain path; with formidable peaks rising abruptly and towering cliffs, their progress was slow. Despite their numbers, which from a distance resembled a line of ants draped across the midsection of the mountain range.
Above them, no tall trees graced the mountainside—barren yellow dirt as far as the eye could see.
Midway up the mountainside, an elder clad in a sheepskin coat emerged from the valley, his back hunched but his voice booming.
"Are those approaching envoys from Jin?"
Ao Qi didn't speak but tilted his head in acknowledgment.
The guard holding the reins, Ding Cong, swiftly raised his voice and shouted:
"Indeed, this is General Ao from our household. Are you a man of the Mahe chieftain, old sir?"
