At the end of January.
It was the coldest season of the year, and within the prestigious Night-blooming Cereus Garden, withered branches tangled together as the wind-breaking trees stood completely bare, the scene incredibly bleak.
Long Eying exhaled warm breath, carried her hands behind her back, and trod upon the yellow, dry grass like a small, silver deer, lightly strolling among it.
Liang Qu stood still, smiling broadly.
Even upon witnessing such a desolate sight, Long Eying did not feel disheartened, for she was in good company.
She stopped and turned back.
"I want to see snow!"
Liang Qu snapped his fingers. A fine drizzle fell, freezing midair into snowflakes that fluttered down.
In no time at all, the mountain top accumulated a layer of soft, pale white, which crunched underfoot.
"It's too dark."
Another snap of the fingers.
