More than a month had passed since the May harvest, and already "winter" had arrived in Zishui City.
Chen Ping wrapped his ragged linen tunic tightly around himself, hunching into the base of the city wall. A bitter, howling wind swept across the battlements, whipping up scraps of cloth from the ground and sending them spinning to land right at his feet.
He raised his head to look. The ramparts were crowded with armored soldiers gripping halberds, their steel gleaming with a cold, pale light in the wintry sun.
Chapter 357