The winter snow fluttered down, dressing the world in a silver cloak.
Cold winds gusted through the passes.
In the small courtyard surrounded by a fence.
Ren Qianqian practiced her swordplay in the snow, the sword winds howling as they stirred the surrounding snowflakes. Her body moved gracefully, her steps light as she flitted back and forth like a butterfly, her sword momentum light and nimble.
"Sword moves are only the surface, you need to grasp the trajectory, flavor, and true meaning of the sword."
Beside her, Li Hao squatted in the snow, diligently building a snowman.
He patted and smoothed his work with his hand, occasionally glancing up at the girl practicing swordplay, offering a few pointers.
Ren Qianqian paused at his words, puzzled, "The trajectory of the sword?"
"Yes."
Li Hao nodded. Seeing that his snowman lacked a couple of branches for arms, he immediately stood up, bent over, and picked up a branch from outside the woodpile nearby,
"Watch, like this."
