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In the Shadu region, countless people stepped out of their homes. Even though the air was bitterly cold and the northern wind cut like a knife, they paid no heed. They simply looked up at the inky clouds overhead, at the snowflakes swirling in the sky.
The snow was frigid, but as it fell to the ground, it brought nothing but life.
Countless people cheered, countless people wept.
“It's snowing!”
“The heavens have finally shown mercy!”
“Why couldn't it have come just a day earlier?”
“If only Father had held on for two more days...”
“Mr. Chang! It's snowing!”
Some commoners had long since had their lips and cheeks cracked open, their skin revealing deep lines and dried blood. Yet, in their murky, dulled eyes, light finally flickered to life.
Some simply tilted their heads back, mouths wide open, trying to catch the falling snowflakes. Their eyes reflected the drifting white blossoms in the sky.
Some, as soon as the snow touched the ground, didn't care if it had picked up dust or dirt. They hurriedly scooped it up and stuffed it into their mouths, fearing that the snowfall might last only for this fleeting moment—that if they waited even a second longer, it would be gone.
A merchant traveler had already collapsed along the road, his consciousness fading. His body burned hot and then turned cold in intervals. But in his final moments of clarity, he felt something cool...
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