Li Xu and Wang Baimu trudged through the snow, their feet sinking deep.
The snow had completely covered the mountain path, leaving only a trail of their uneven footprints.
In the Qinling winter, all life seemed to have fallen into a deep slumber.
But beneath this silence, a vibrant life force was hidden.
The distant, snow-covered mountain peaks resembled a vast ink wash painting. Sturdy pines and cypresses were cloaked in silver, their branches heavy with crystalline icicles that glittered with a rainbow of colors in the sunlight.
From the valley, the crisp calls of a few birds would occasionally break the silence, adding a touch of life to the white world.
"Doctor Li, don't be fooled by how bare the mountains look in winter. The real treasures are all underground."
