The harsh north wind in the twelfth lunar month sweeps across the Northern Desert Icefield, with its sinister chill like thousands of poisoned steel swords, whistling between the eaves and brackets of the temporary headquarters of the Heroic Sakura Association at Feima Pass. Blue tiles and white walls tremble under the wild wind, and the copper bells at the eaves emit hollow and sorrowful whimpers, as if lamenting the impending disaster.
Inside the headquarters, candlelight flickers dimly, casting shadows that alternately brighten and darken, oppressing the entire room as if weighed down by lead, making it difficult for people to breathe.
