Feng Shan hadn't expected it either—the massive blizzard the weather bureau had forecast wouldn't arrive for another three days was already starting its dress rehearsal.
At first, only a few scattered snowflakes drifted down. Then, they grew more numerous, plummeting straight from the gray sky.
Each one was the size of a fingernail, with an irregular shape. They fell thick and fast, quickly filling his entire field of vision.
The once-calm, cold wind suddenly turned violent, howling as it swept across the tundra, blowing so hard a person could barely keep their eyes open.
The low-lying moss and vegetation were quickly buried by the accumulating snow.
'This is some serious snow.'
Wearing a rider's face mask and a fur hat pulled down over his head, Feng Shan wrapped his fur coat tighter and led Nash onward, struggling with every step in the deepening snow.
The swirling snowflakes piled up at an astonishing rate.
