The next day, the temperature suddenly dropped, the cold wind was biting, and the snow was falling thick and fast. Overnight, the roofs, trees, and ground were all covered in a thick layer of snow. The little maids in the courtyard swept the snow to the side, laughing as they built two snowmen.
Chen Afu, sitting by the window, felt a heavy burden on her heart. If this snow continued to fall, regardless if it stopped at the end of the first or second lunar month, or even if it only lasted for eight or ten days, it would still be a disaster. The Chu family members who knew the inside story did not wish for Master Wu Zhi's prophecy to come true. Because if it did, not only would the Chu family face an unknown catastrophe, but who knew how many of the common folk would freeze or starve to death in the snowstorm.