On a certain day of the twelfth month, Dulin had just snowed. The city had transformed into a dazzle of white, and only traces of black ashes were left under the ceilings and the surrounding of the chimney which had turned black due to smoke. The cinders and the smoke ashes had stained the pure white snow. After the Northern West wind had blown past, the snow and various fine dust particles had completely lost control, covering people's faces on the street and entering their lungs through the air.
Other than the intricate noble residential areas, Dulin was filthy. Even though the descending snow had buried most of the city's rubbish, some corners still had the same appearance, forming a filthy lair together with the bricks of the roofs.