"Little...Brother Xiao Mao, he's coming...coming, hurry up...hurry up...run...run!" Behind a small snow-covered mound in the distance, a short, thin young man who spoke with a stutter, looked at Lucas Shen who was slowly approaching, his face changed color.
Xiao Mao, the man with glasses, was trembling as he took out a cigarette from his pocket, took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, but because his hands were shaking all the time, the lighter in his hand was shaking but never lit. Finally, he threw the lighter and cigarette out fiercely and cursed.
"If I could run, would I stay here and die?"
"Then...then...then...what...what should I do?" Keba was really anxious. He beat his legs desperately and then got up. Then his legs went limp and he sat down on the ground with a thump.
The sudden extreme cold almost froze them to death. Although they had regained consciousness, their legs were still numb and they couldn't stand up or run.
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