After the National Day Holiday ended, the four of them boarded their flight back.
On the way back to Yanjing, Li Wanyin fell asleep against Chen Shi'an's shoulder.
Wen Zhixia and Lin Meng Qiu sat close together on the other side, one going through manuscripts for the literary society, the other sketching storyboards in her notebook.
As the plane passed through the clouds, Wen Zhixia looked curiously out the window and whispered:
"I wonder when it'll snow in Yanjing."
Lin Meng Qiu's pen paused, and she turned to look at the surging sea of clouds outside too.
"...Not for a while. December at the earliest."
"Taoist, Taoist, when do you think it'll snow this year?"
"This year..."
Chen Shi'an looked at the sky outside too. After a pause, he smiled. "Early December, I'd say. There might be quite a heavy snowfall."
"Yay! It hasn't snowed in Cloud Perch for years, and when it does, it's only a tiny bit. We can have snowball fights together in Yanjing this year!"
"...Childish," Lin Meng Qiu remarked.
"You'll be the first one I hit with a snowball!"
"...Hah. You won't hit me."
Listening to them, the Class Monitor grew eager to try too. She was definitely going to pelt Stinking Cicada until her head and face were covered in snow, then build a huge bunny snowman and have it squash her cicada snowman flat with its bottom!
In late October, Yanjing's ginkgo leaves were at their golden best.
The tree-lined road outside Chunxiao Garden had already turned brilliant gold. Whenever the wind blew, leaves rustled down, carpeting the ground.
Chen Shi'an still got up at five every morning and rode his bicycle around Yanjing's streets and alleys.
Sometimes Fat Cat followed him, and sometimes the cat slipped off to campus alone.
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