The location of the footprints was easy to identify, as it was not far from Jiang Yanxia's body. Government officials of the Western Capital stood in two opposing lines, evidently protecting some traces in the middle. Beside them, an artist was lowering his head, carefully observing the ground, and conscientiously drawing something.
Xu Jing stepped forward. It had snowed yesterday morning—not heavily, but enough to leave about two knuckles' thickness of snow on the ground.
Since few people had come here, the accumulated snow on the ground hadn't been cleared at all, essentially remaining in its original state.
In contrast, this large snowy area had been trampled with countless messy footprints, except for the path under the protection of the officials, which remained clean and intact, clearly showing a neat line of small footprints leading toward the dock.
