In the bamboo grove, where moonlight was somber, a cool breeze brushed against the face.
In the sky, fine snow fluttered down.
The weather in this secret realm was entirely consistent with the outside world.
Right now, in the reality outside, it should be the harsh winter moment, with snow falling.
Thus, snowflakes also fell within the secret realm.
Li Muyang sat beside the fire, roasting bamboo shoot skewers, waiting for tonight's dinner to be ready.
Opposite him, a woman in a brand-new robe curled up in her new clothes, her gaze dull as she looked at the burning fire, not saying a word.
It wasn't that it was cold, but merely that the atmosphere was awkward.
After witnessing the woman bury herself in the ground, Li Muyang hesitated but still ran over and dug her out.
The Yan Xiaoru who was dug out had become what she was now.
She was dragged by Li Muyang into the bamboo grove like a marionette, with no resistance, yet also not speaking a word.
