331 Encountering Wolves in the Snow

Fifty years later ... . .

The clear sunlight in the sky revealed white light, and the hurried white clouds seemed to be going to a market somewhere. In the white sky, a snow-white eagle streaked across the sky. The breeze blew the white snowflakes in the sky like goose feathers, like flowers blooming in spring, traveling far away with the wind.

The whirring sound of the wind blew from the iceberg in the distance, and the sound sounded like a ghost's cry. On the ground covered with snow, a white wolf stood beside an old tree with all its leaves fallen off. The white wolf shook its head and showed its ferocious fangs to the sky. The wolf howled, and a group of white wolves like an army slowly attacked from behind.

On a small hill in the distance, a man in black clothes and a black robe, about fifteen or sixteen years old, held his body with his hands, his feet on the ground covered with snow to his knees, his face frozen into frost. He slowly pulled out his ri