Translator: Rex Editor: Rex
The end of a mortal's life is a century, but not many can actually live a full century.
When Wang Ping was 72 years old, he felt that his life was at its end. A year later, though his body was still healthy, he could clearly feel that his life was about to end.
Winter came early this year, just like the year Sun Tai left. The snow had sealed the roads early on, so the villagers couldn't go out and could only slowly pass the winter with their loved ones.
The cold wind roared in the sky as if it was taking lives that were about to end one by one. The entire process was like a reincarnation cycle.
The winter this year seemed to be even colder than the winters before it, and the wind carried bone-piercing coldness. At night it was especially cold. If a simple house didn't start a warm fire, it would be pierced by the coldness of the night wind.
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