บท 197: Flaming Cloud Needle

Urumqi, the first snow.

Being a city in a remote province, Urumqi had always been a place easily ignored and seldom included in anything. It had been ages since the city last held a high-profile conference—the level of the "profile" depended on the participants. Naturally, the higher the titles, the more important the conference.

Today, however, Urumqi was probably seeing its biggest event since the city was founded. A third of the roads in the city had been closed off and the streets were lined with police officers, men of special forces, and plainclothes; everyone stood ready for any possible challenge that might arise.

It was a cold day. The first snow of this winter swirled and drifted, covering the streets and curbs with a thin layer of whiteness.