The night had passed like a dream. After returning to his room, Ouyang had fallen straight into bed and slept until the next morning.
Still asleep, Ouyang was woken by Hu Tutu's cries of surprise.
"It's snowing! It's snowing!" Hu Tutu's delighted voice rang throughout the little courtyard.
Ouyang draped his Daoist robe over himself and stepped outside, where a vast expanse of white greeted his eyes.
The heavy snow that had fallen in the latter half of the night had changed the season on Little Mountain Peak in an instant. The gleaming snow plunged them straight into winter, even though the leaves on the branches were clearly still green.
Hu Tutu did not care why it was snowing. It never snowed on Green Mound Mountain, and she had only seen snow once, when she was three-and even that had been a light drizzle of sleet.
Seeing such heavy snow for the first time, Hu Tutu felt as though she were in a world that existed only in dreams!
"Put on more clothes before you play, and don't lick the iron post outside the kitchen!" Ouyang shouted at Hu Tutu, who was romping around with the Tibetan Fox.
Just as Ouyang was about to return to his room for another layer of clothing, he turned and nearly collided with Leng Qingsong, who was holding his sword.
Leng Qingsong gazed at Ouyang, his eyes fixed on him. "Brother!"
Looking at Leng Qingsong, Ouyang saw none of his usual domineering CEO aloofness. Instead, there was a trace of anticipation in his eyes. Understanding immediately, Ouyang smiled and said, "That's right. The first snow. It's time!"
At Ouyang's reply, Leng Qingsong's fixed expression relaxed. A hint of a smile flashed across his face before he hurried toward his room, sword in his arms.