It's Snowing!

The word "silent" was only relative when it came to Tang San's Sleeve Arrow—there was still a "click" as the mechanism triggered. But with this God Crossbow, "silent" meant exactly that. From the moment the mechanism was triggered until the bolt left the barrel, it made no sound at all.

Huang Fei lowered his sleeve, satisfied.

By the time he left the bathroom, it was already mostly dark. The playground was empty, and the bare branches of the ginkgo trees swayed in the wind. From the direction of the cafeteria in the distance came a hubbub of voices and the clatter of bowls and chopsticks. The air carried the aroma of cabbage stewed with tofu.

Huang Fei tucked his hands into his sleeves and ambled toward the cafeteria. When he passed the largest ginkgo tree beside the playground, he stopped and glanced at the mark Tang San's Blue Silver Grass had left on its trunk. Most of the bark had healed, but the scar remained, like a closed eye.

He looked away and continued toward the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was warm and bustling. The work-study students crowded around two long tables in the corner, their heads down as they ate. Tang San and Xiao Wu sat together, with Wang Sheng between them. Xiao Wu was using her chopsticks to pick slices of meat out of Tang San's bowl and pop them into her mouth. Tang San dared not complain, while Wang Sheng watched with amusement.

Huang Fei carried his bowl over and sat down across from them.

"Brother Fei, why'd you get up so late today?" Wang Sheng asked, his mouth full of food.

"I didn't get up late. I woke up, but didn't get up." Huang Fei nudged the cabbage around in his bowl with his chopsticks, found a piece of tofu hidden underneath, and ate it.

Wang Sheng was used to this sort of answer by now, so he didn't ask anything else.

Tang San glanced at Huang Fei. He noticed that Huang Fei's right sleeve hung lower than usual, almost covering the back of his hand. But he didn't think much of it, assuming Huang Fei was just cold.

"Did you try the thing I gave you?" Tang San asked in a lowered voice.

Huang Fei knew what he meant. "I did. It's good."

Tang San nodded and didn't press him further. He trusted that Huang Fei was clever enough to figure out how to use it without being taught.

After dinner, they returned to Dorm Seven, where Tang San continued meditating. Huang Fei burrowed beneath his covers and closed his eyes. The thin silver patch on the inside of his right forearm rested snugly against his skin, like a hand warmer at just the right temperature.

Three inches. Twelve shots. Silent. Paralyzing.

He ran through those keywords in his mind, then rolled over and found a more comfortable position.

Half the size of Tang San's. Five times as powerful. Ten thousand times quieter.

Tang San's Sleeve Arrow had to be triggered manually, made a sound, had limited range, and fired one shot at a time. His God Crossbow was triggered by thought, completely silent, had twice the range, and fired twelve shots at once.

That was the system's "always better than yours."

Huang Fei gave a silent laugh beneath the covers and closed his eyes.

Outside the window, the first snow of winter was falling softly. Fine flakes tapped against the window paper with an almost inaudible rustle, like someone turning the pages of a very thick book far away.

Dorm Seven gradually fell quiet. Wang Sheng's snores started first, followed by Xiao Wu's steady breathing, and then an unknown work-study student mumbled something in a dream that nobody could understand.

Tang San was still meditating. His Mysterious Heaven Skill flowed slowly through his meridians, round after round, like an endless tide.

Huang Fei was already asleep. The Silent Divine Crossbow on the inside of his right arm rose and fell faintly with his breathing, like a living weapon that breathed.

The first snow of winter fell all night.

The next morning, Huang Fei woke up freezing.

At some point, the covers had come loose, leaving a gap. Cold air seeped through it like an icy needle pricking his neck. He hunched his shoulders, pulled the covers back over himself, and curled into a ball, leaving only the top of his head exposed.

There was no fire in Dorm Seven. The work-study students were already treated worse than ordinary students, and they received no extra charcoal in winter. They had to tough it out with the warmth of more than a dozen bodies huddled together and their thick quilts. Wang Sheng called it the "work-study student heating method," relying on strength in numbers.

Huang Fei thought that was far too optimistic. It was obviously just "huddling together so you're less likely to freeze to death."

Tang San had gone out before dawn.

It was his habit. No matter whether it was windy, rainy, or snowy, he never missed his morning cultivation. Huang Fei sometimes truly admired him—not for his diligence, but for being able to crawl out of bed on such a cold morning. With that kind of perseverance, he could have gotten into Tsinghua University in his previous life.

Xiao Wu, on the other hand, still hadn't gotten up. Her bed was in the innermost spot against the wall, and she was curled up beneath her covers, with only the tip of her ponytail sticking out. Even a rabbit spirit was afraid of the cold. That made Huang Fei feel a little better—even a Hundred-Thousand-Year Soul Beast had to curl up beneath the covers, so there was no shame in him doing the same.

Wang Sheng was the first to get up and start a fire. He brought in an armful of firewood from outside and lit the iron stove in the middle of Dorm Seven. The flames illuminated the whole room, and warmth slowly spread through it. At last, the frozen air began to stir.

"Brother Fei, get up!" Wang Sheng shouted.

Huang Fei stuck one hand out from beneath the covers, waved it, then pulled it back in.

"There's hot porridge in the cafeteria. If you're late, it'll be gone." Wang Sheng brought out his secret weapon.

The covers opened a crack. Huang Fei's face emerged, his hair as messy as a bird's nest, his eyes half-open. He radiated the unmistakable air of someone who was awake but whose soul was still in bed.

"Porridge?"

"Sweet potato porridge. It's sweet."

Huang Fei fell silent for three seconds, as if making the most important decision of his life. Then he threw off the covers and sat up.

Wang Sheng smiled with satisfaction. He'd known that nothing else would work. Mention food, and Huang Fei was sure to get up.

There really was sweet potato porridge in the cafeteria. And it really was sweet. Huang Fei carried his bowl to a corner and sipped his porridge one mouthful at a time, feeling his soul slowly return to his body through the top of his head. By the time he'd finished the bowl, he finally felt alive again.

Tang San walked in from outside, snowflakes that hadn't yet melted clinging to his hair. His face was red from the cold wind, but his eyes shone as if they held two stars. He sat across from Huang Fei, ladled himself a bowl of porridge, drank it in a few quick gulps, then got another.

"Has the snow stopped outside?" Huang Fei asked.

"It has. There's half a foot of snow on the playground," Tang San said. "It crunches when you walk on it."

Huang Fei imagined the scene and decided he'd rather sit in the warm cafeteria by the stove, drinking porridge.

After finishing his second bowl, Tang San set it down and lowered his voice. "After breakfast, I'm going to the blacksmith's shop west of the city. The fletching on yesterday's batch of arrows needs adjusting. Are you coming?"

"No. It's cold." Huang Fei's answer was brisk and decisive.

Tang San had expected that answer. He nodded and didn't try to persuade him. After clearing away his dishes, he got up and left the cafeteria. Huang Fei watched his back disappear through the doorway, then leaned against his chair and warmed his hands around his bowl of porridge.