When the heavy snow comes, it's a flurry of rain and snow.
The weekend of the fourteenth week happens to be the day of "Big Snow," one of the twenty-four solar terms.
Since last night, the weather on Buji Island has seemed a bit gloomy, and the drifting winds felt rather solemn. At lunchtime, the young cost student who had just taken a nap opened the curtains to find the sky still a dull grey. The sun seemed to have lost its colour and warmth, leaving behind only icy light, silently pouring down upon this world amidst the howling wind.
The dormitory is very quiet.
The beds of Fatty and Xiao Xiao are empty, and there is nobody at the desk. I suppose one must have gone to the library, and the other to the campus newspaper's editorial room. The curtains over Dylan's bed are tightly closed, and through the gaps in the curtains, one can vaguely see the shadow of a large black coffin - I wonder if Mister Wolfman is still napping.
