The flurries kept falling from the dusky sky and the cold plum flowers drifted, merging with the elegance of the scattered trees.
Snow blanketed the pear blossoms, whitening the wild peach groves and brightening the Mountain God Temple. A gust of wind whirled snow dragons into the house, the kindled firewood hissed, emitting white steam and crackling sound.
Zhao Rong closed half of the door, repelling the snow outside.
He went out to tie the horse, flicked his sleeves, brushing off a flurry of snowflakes.
Then he sat back down in front of the fire and added more dry wood from the temple.
Hearing the girl's earlier words about "having many sisters," he didn't mind and casually asked, "Where is Lan, didn't she go looking for you? Why aren't you together?"
"She was with me, but as we neared Hangzhou Prefecture she grew restless and said she wanted to search for some Mount Heng older brother."
The girl continued to hold the Guangling San and went on:
