The forces of nature stirred, clouds swelled, and the heavens churned with a dark, leaden ink.
A thunderous crack sliced through the sky thick with clouds, darkening the day.
Bolt after bolt of lightning descended, striking the mountaintop and sending forth waves of frigid snow and icy gusts.
The rare peace in the Mortal World, cleansed of spirits and ghosts, did not last long before strange signs reappeared.
In the increasingly fierce snowfall, Su Jing stood on the summit, her bright black eyes akin to polished onyx, glinting with gathered light.
The desolate wind ceaselessly lifted her white garments and black hair.
Silently, she gazed at the tightly closed door before her, unmoving, as if fused with the unyielding stone amidst this bitter storm.
The mountains are silent, the pale moon sinks westward.
Only when a trace of white dawn rose in the east did she lift her frost-laden lashes, glancing distantly at the sky.
