The rain had stopped and the light of the early morning sun gradually appeared. The beasts looking for food were walking among the hardy woods, with the snow on the trees shook off. The original yellowish black of the trees added some color and vitality to the vast snowfield. However, looking at the thick bloodstain which was gradually covered by snow outside the tent, the young girl's face was still pale.
Mo Shanshan in the Mogan Mountain never killed a person before arriving at the snowfield. Later she began killing some people in the snowfield. Even so, she didn't kill a fellow before last night. For a person who believed in Haotian, the men from the Divine Hall were, of course, her fellows.