The suggestion that followed was a terrible joke. Even Zheng Qing, who had made it, could not help shivering after the words left his mouth. He shook his head and abandoned the idea.
But one of the four uninvited guests had apparently taken the suggestion seriously.
"Can we go down and stomp our feet?" The Bull-headed Man blinked, swaying his head as he looked eagerly at his companions. "How about we go down? We've been standing up here so long that the cold wind has made my horns stiff."
Zheng Qing's mouth twitched. For a moment, he did not know how to respond—he very much wanted to point out that bull horns were stiff to begin with. What difference did a little wind and frost make?
Given the difference in their respective positions, Zheng Qing ultimately abandoned that idea.
Unlike him, the Bull-headed Man's companions were very decisive.
Without saying a word, the Beautiful Snake Woman flicked her black cloak. With a single sweep of the thick tail behind her, she sent that chatterbox tumbling from the Tree branch. The Bull-headed Man got his wish and made it down to the ground.
Except he had fallen headfirst, so he did not get to stomp his feet and warm himself up.
After climbing out of the snow pit, the Bull-headed Man did not climb back onto the branch. Instead, he went straight to a thick pine Tree, lowered his head, and rubbed his horns against the rough, greasy bark.
Needle-like pine leaves rustled down with the Bull-headed Man's movements, laying a long-missed layer of green across the snow. Under the moonlight, it made for a strangely entertaining sight.
After rubbing one side, the Bull-headed Man turned around to rub the other, and his bell-sized eyes met the young publicly funded student's