The next morning.0

The snow had cleared, and the sun rose. The manor lay wrapped in a blanket of shimmering silver, shot through with golden gleams.0

Sheng'er was bundled up in a thick cotton jacket, leaning on a tiny walking stick. Her two small footprints, paired with a round hole left by the stick, trailed slowly off into the distance.0

That jacket was cozy and warm, the thick collar fluffing up around her so much that she looked like a turtle. All that peeked out was an adorable little face and two crescent-moon eyes smiling happily.0

Meanwhile, a murder of pitch-black crows perched everywhere—on decorative rocks, tall trees, and rooftops—watching the bustling courtyard below with their oddly frenzied yet eerily calm gazes.0

“One, two, three… One, two, three, four, five…five… One, two…two… Stop flying, stop running away! Waaahhh!”1

Ping’an, seated on Xue Ning’s lap, kept craning his head back to count the crows. But every time he reached the number five, the birds took off again, never letting him count properly. After a while, the frustrated little Ping’an burst into loud wails, tears streaming down his...0