"Heavy snow promises a bountiful year! With such heavy snowfall, next year is certain to be a year of rich harvest!" Maybe influenced by Lin Yuan's enthusiasm, Ma Junying's face also showed a rare excitement. Such a gentle and polished gentleman, he reached out with both hands like a child to catch the increasingly large snowflakes.
"Indeed," Lin Yuan said, looking at his childlike behavior, she felt for the first time that Young Master Ma also had such a down-to-earth side. She turned with a smile to Ma Junying, then turned her head to watch the children excitedly running around in the courtyard.
For the children, the snowfall held no meaning of predicting a bountiful year; they were simply playing for the sake of enjoyment.
Old Mr. Cheng, after all, was advanced in years. Although the snow was not yet thick, he was already shivering a bit, tightening the thin jacket on his body. A flicker of joy passed across his weathered face: "It's snowing, how wonderful!"
