The endless snow, like scattered flowers carved from jade, fell unevenly.
The lamps before the window, all extinguished by the northern wind, left the small courtyard deeper in night, as layers of snow piled up on the plum tree branches.
In this silent darkness, a hand reached over and ignited a new lamp with a fire stick.
Someone lit a lamp, illuminating the night of many years later.
Within the warmth of the silver lamp's glow, brightness flared up instantly, dispersing the dense fog that had just enveloped everything. Slowly, everything inside and outside the window became clear, and the young man sitting opposite was drawn to the warmth of the light. As his gaze fixed on it, a touch of warmth fell upon him.
Though it was the cold winter month of La, the brightness of the silver lamp seemed to bring forth a hint of spring.
Lu Tong stared at Pei Yunmeng, dumbfounded.
There he was.
