The transition from the sunny, open plateau into the mouth of the Razor-Wind Ravine was instantaneous and unforgiving.
As the Plateau Five crossed the threshold between two massive granite monoliths, the pleasant mountain breeze whipped into a roaring, high-velocity gale. Funneled through the narrow, fifty-foot gap in the cliff face, the wind screamed like a jet engine, spraying loose gray shale and freezing mist across the path.
Wu Haoran took a single step forward, and the sudden draft immediately tore the hood off his jacket, forcing him to lean his entire body weight into the gale just to stay upright.
"Whoa!" Wu Haoran yelled over the howling air, unstrapping his heavy pack and swinging it around to his chest. "Okay, so Director Zhao wasn't kidding about the wind! It feels like trying to walk through a wall of cold bricks!"
