The snow cleared and the sun appeared, fragmented plum blossoms spun in the morning light.
The clouds hadn't completely lifted at the horizon, making the sky above appear especially pure.
The endless blizzard had finally lost its momentum,
Chen Ye breathed on his hands, grateful for the storm's pause.
Previously, as the weather worsened, it always filled him with worry.
As the saying goes, when something is out of the ordinary, it must have a reason.
Especially in the Cultivation Realm, behind unusual weather, there often lies some reason.
Chen Ye leaned against the door frame, looking at the courtyard scenery, rarely finding leisure, the fatigue from days of intense cultivation quietly dissolving.
At this moment,
Qing Jun was tiptoeing to reach the remaining snow on the plum branches, while Zhiwei squatted silently in the corner, accumulating the fluffy snow grains into a small mountain.
The warm morning sun brushed against his face.
