寒风像刀子一样刮在脸上，老王眯着眼睛， tightly holding a piece of rotten wood in his hands. The air here was so cold that he felt it was cutting into his bones. He had been trapped in this endless night and extreme cold for three days straight. During this time, he had neither eaten nor drunk. He only survived by chewing on the slightly less rotten wood he had fished out from the ruins of a broken cabin.

He looked around. He was in a snowy wasteland, where he couldn't see the sun even in the daytime. The ground was covered in thick ice, and the trees were all bare and twisted as if they were twisted by some terrible force. Every time he tried to take a step forward, he would feel the ground under his feet break through the thin layer of ice to reveal the deep frozen mud below, making him slip and almost fall down every time.

Suddenly, a low growl came from the bushes not far away. A pair of glowing red eyes stared at him from the dark shadows. It was a snow wolf, a predator that had given many people trouble in this place.