Snowflakes fluttering, the lonely village is silent.
From the east to the west of the village, mischievous children chase each other, playing games, their carefree smiles creating a delightful contrast with the wintry snow, while at the village entrance, the old locust tree stands quietly, its branches adorned with peaceful snow.
A woman, leading a horse, slowly walks from outside the village, her white dress gently swaying, appearing even more exquisite amidst the pure white snowflakes. Her expression is indifferent, holding a sword in her hand, with another sword strapped to her back.
She walks straight into the village,
Suddenly, a child's voice echoes from afar: "Aunt Fuling!"
The woman in white stops walking, turns slightly, and sees a group of children noisily running over.
These children are young, around five or six years old, their noses reddened by the cold wind, wearing simple clothes sewn together with various patches.
