The setting was a dark and snowy night, a pavilion on the lake, green plums and an earthen stove, with two people sitting across from each other, drinking tea. All in all, it imbued the scene with an elegant and unearthly quality.
Over the past several days, An Hua had imagined that person to be like an aloof noble that disdained worldly things. Now when she saw the scene on the snowy lake, she felt that all was as it should be.
At this moment, the young man in the pavilion raised the cup in his hand and took a sip.
The night breeze had lifted up the curtains, and it had also carried the scent of the liquid within the cup. The crowd was somewhat surprised, because they could smell that the cup was not filled with tea, but wine. _To drink wine on a snowy night is still rather elegant,_ An Hua thought to herself. She bowed deferentially to the pavilion and then raised her head, intending to say something, but she discovered that the young man had disappeared.
