After eating their fill, they repacked their gear.
They neatly rolled the sleeping bags and packed away each piece of cookware.
Once everything was packed, Feng Shan pushed open the tent flap. In that instant, a bone-chilling cold slammed into him without warning.
The chill shot from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, sending a shiver through his body. It sparked a powerful, instantaneous urge to dive right back into the warmth of the tent.
As far as the eye could see, the world outside had been completely transformed by heavy snow.
Clearly, a heavy snow had fallen late last night. The pure white snow was piled high.
Outside the tent, in the area where the tigers usually rested, their majestic figures were gone. All that remained was a rolling, unbroken blanket of snow. In the darkness of the polar night, it shimmered with a mysterious, cold light.
Feng Shan casually scooped up a handful of snow and rubbed it haphazardly across his face, a makeshift morning wash.
