Myriad Records of Spirit Fields, Low-Grade Golden Slaughter Formation

New Year's Day.

With a creak, the brown wooden door was pulled open from within.

At once, the biting wind, wrapped in dense flurries of snow, surged into the house.

A layer of frost spread across the ground at a speed visible to the naked eye.

In an instant, the temperature inside plummeted.

Wangwang and the Pearl Chicken, still sleeping in, were directly frozen awake.

The dog and chicken hurriedly huddled together, leaning against each other for warmth.

Xu Changqing poked his head out and glanced outside.

Everything in sight was white, without the slightest hint of any other color.

Everything in the world had been frozen solid.

The bone-piercing wind howled.

Goose-feather snowflakes drifted down in rustling sheets.

"This year's snow came a little later than last year's," Xu Changqing remarked.

Fortunately, it did not affect him in the slightest.

What those with a Wood Spirit Root found hardest to endure was summer, with its unbearable scorching heat.

Spring, autumn, and winter, on the other hand, were fairly comfortable.

Besides, his cultivation had already reached Late Qi Refining.

After this period of improvement, the spiritual power within him had increased to seven strands.

At this rate, he might break through to the Foundation Establishment Realm on the day of the [Spiritual Qi Tide].

Creak!

Xu Changqing shut the brown wooden door again.

The clamor outside came to an abrupt stop.

The wind and snow crashing toward the house seemed as though they had been turned away at the door.

Seeing the two little ones still shivering, Xu Changqing brought over the portable stove from the corner.

He did not need it himself, but they desperately did at this moment.

Of course, he might as well roast a few sweet potatoes while he was at it.

He tossed a small