Youquan Town.
Just hearing the name, Chai Xiaomi thought it would be a cold, desolate place, with deep, dark springs and a chilling gloom.
But when she actually arrived, she realized she had been mistaken.
This place was stunning beyond words.
As far as the eye could see, everything was a vast expanse of white, yet the whiteness wasn’t bleak. Sunlight poured down, making the snow-covered rooftops gleam with a soft, pearly luster. Long icicles hung beneath the eaves, tinkling as the wind blew.
There were unnamed trees in the town, their branches covered in rime frost, fluffy as if blooming with clusters of jade flowers. Occasionally, sparrows flew by, shaking off a few frost chips that drifted down, sparkling faintly in the sunlight.
The town wasn’t heavily populated, but it wasn’t lonely either.
A few children, wrapped up in round, bulky layers, chased each other through the snow, while distant kitchen chimneys sent up curls of smoke, adding a touch of warmth to this glazed, crystal world.
As a “southern potato” unused to such icy landscapes, Chai Xiaomi had zero resistance to this frozen wonderland.
The moment she stepped off the boat, she dashed headlong into the thick snow.
She was bundled up in layers and wore a heavy cloak, so running wasn’t easy, but fueled by her excitement, she still managed to leave everyone else far behind.
Old Ji had told her that deep in the springs of Youquan Town, there was a flower called the Sansheng Othershore Flower. Although Wu Li had said it might not be effective against the mother worm inside his body, she still wanted to find it and give it a try.
She remembered his exact words: “A teacher for a day is a father for life. Since this old man has taken on the title of his ‘master,’ whether he truly accepts it or not in his heart, I must do everything in my power to keep my child from suffering.”
Thinking of this, Chai Xiaomi turned to look behind her.
Four figures slowly walked toward her.
Lili, Old Ji, Sister Yao, and—
Pfft—
Brother Yu was carrying a huge snowman on his back, bent over like a shrimp, his face full of despair. His legs sank into the snow as he shuffled forward step by step.
He was muttering complaints: “Master, you’re supposed to treat all disciples equally. Why are you favoring him and making only me carry this? Junior Brother is young and strong, he has more strength than I do!”
Song Yueyao threw cold water on him lightly: “Are you saying you admit to being a weak man? Don’t make me look down on you.”
Jiang Zhiyu immediately straightened up: “No way! No way! Yaoyao, I can carry it! I’m totally capable!”
White Cat snorted from the side: “Oh my, ten words from this old man aren’t as effective as one from little Yao.”
Jiang Zhiyu protested: “Master, why are you always picking on me? You’d never scold Wu Li—unless you think a hundred words from you are less command than one from Xiaomi?”
“At least one spell I teach him is more useful than a hundred I teach you.”
Jiang Zhiyu: “...”
He felt utterly targeted.
He dropped his head and trudged on through the snow, which was getting thicker, and on top of that, he had a motionless snowman strapped to his back—truly adding insult to injury.
But as he walked, he suddenly felt the weight on his back lighten.
A wisp of malevolent energy quietly coiled around the snowman, lifting the heavy burden gently.
The young man walking ahead said nothing, still moving silently, his back as aloof as ever.
Jiang Zhiyu stared blankly at that silhouette.
The corners of his eyes suddenly stung.
He took a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs: “Thanks, Junior Brother!”
The word “Junior Brother” had barely left his lips when the weight on his back plunged down sharply.
Caught off guard, he was slammed into the snow in a perfect spreadeagle position, the snowman pressing him flat.
The children playing in the distance saw this and doubled over with laughter.
Wu Li kept walking without looking back, but a faint tug at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
Just like the Snow Beast had said, every household here had a snowman piled by the door, varying in size and decoration. The only similarity was that they were all round and chubby.
By the time the group found an inn to stay at, the sky had already darkened.
Youquan Town had shorter days and longer nights, which allowed the Snow Beasts to extend their lifespan to the maximum.
At night, all the Snow Beasts in the town became active. They gathered silently in the Snow Ice Cave, forming a large circle. In the center stood the Snow King, wearing a paper crown, his short little hands clasped behind his back, looking like he was about to give a speech.
“Boss is back! I told you Boss is lucky and wouldn’t get into trouble!”
“Good people are blessed by heaven!”
“Truly worthy of being the Snow King of our Snow Beasts!”
The Snow King snorted, his eyes made of two round stones sweeping across the crowd: “You ungrateful lot. At the critical moment, you abandoned the King and ran faster than rabbits! And now you come here to butter me up?”
The Snow King added: “I have only one thing to say to you—”
All the Snow Beasts shrank their round bodies, hardly daring to breathe, falling into dead silence.
“Well done!”
“Excellent! That means you haven’t forgotten the King’s words!” The Snow King raised his short little hand, speaking passionately. “When trouble comes, there’s no shame in running away! Our lives are short anyway—every one of you who escapes is one saved!”
“Long live the Boss!”
“Running isn’t shameful; survival is what matters!”
Cheers rose one after another as the round little creatures huddled together. The scene was both touching and hilarious.
“Oh, and let me introduce you all by the way,” the Snow King puffed out his round belly, pointing into the distance. “See those folks on the slope? They’re the new friends the King has made. They’ve come here especially out of respect for me to print protective charms on every one of you! From now on, you won’t have to worry about getting scattered by any random passerby during the day!”
As his words fell, the cheers from the Snow Beasts grew even louder.
Chai Xiaomi sat on a snowy hillside, resting her chin in her hand, watching the lively Snow King in the middle. She felt a pang in her heart: Too bad this Snow King isn’t the one she met before. Back then, she’d only focused on that crown, and now she saw the differences were quite significant.
She still felt a lingering grudge.
It turned out the place where this bunch gathered at night was called the “Snow Ice Cave.” She’d gotten excited for nothing when she heard “Snow Ice.”
The residents of Youquan Town were spread across three main areas.
After some discussion, White Cat made the decision: he and Wu Li would handle the two areas with the most households, since they could form seals quickly.
Jiang Zhiyu, naturally, ended up with the smallest area.
It wasn’t exactly harmful, but the humiliation was intense.
Chai Xiaomi patted him comfortingly: “It’s okay, Brother Yu. The capable do more. Since you’re not that capable, you can rest more.”
Jiang Zhiyu: “...Thanks a lot. I feel so comforted.”
The next day, they split into three groups.
Song Yueyao was tasked with helping Jiang Zhiyu, handing him talisman paper like the proper helper she was. Chai Xiaomi, naturally, stuck with Wu Li, getting in his way from every angle in a fully immersive and delightfully disruptive manner.
“Lili, aren’t you bored? Want me to play you a tune on my slingshot?”
“Sure, let’s hear it.”
Wu Li didn’t pause in forming his seals but answered right away.
“Lili, come on, have a red date. Eating more red dates can boost your blood— see how pale your face is.”
“Okay, let’s eat.”
He bent down, took one from her hand with his lips, and lightly brushed along with her fingertip.
“Lili, your hands look more and more beautiful to me.”
“Yours are beautiful too.”
“Lili, my foot’s stuck in the snow and I can’t pull it out!”
“Coming.”
He set down the half-finished seal, walked over a few steps, and lifted her out of the snow with one hand, casually brushing the ice crystals off her skirt.
“Lili, what’s that grass called?”
“Ice Grass.”
“It’s kind of pretty.”
“Wait for me.”
He understood instantly. Silently, he turned around, waded into snow that was knee-deep, dug up the plant by its roots, and handed it to her.
Chai Xiaomi took it happily, blinked, then suddenly leaned in and kissed him.
Her eyes crinkled as she smiled: “Lili, do you ever get annoyed with me calling you all the time?”
Wu Li looked down at her, silently counting in his head.
Three hundred and sixty-seven times.
During the days he’d been crafting the protective talismans, she’d called out “Lili” exactly three hundred and sixty-seven times.
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “Annoyed.”
Chai Xiaomi: “!!!”
She put her hands on her hips and glared, ready to throw a tantrum, but was pulled into his arms in one swift motion.
He pressed his cheek against the top of her head, his lazy voice carrying a hint of laughter: “What I meant is, even so, I’ll take it.”
In all the years he’d lived, he had always been alone, quietly doing things with raindrops as his song, the wind as his company, and the sun as his warmth.
The word he’d heard most often was “bastard.”
But in just a few short days, the number of times she’d said “Lili” was more than all the ugly names he’d ever been called combined.
He held her tighter.
So this was how beautiful his name could sound, when heard enough times.
Even with a mischievous wife by his side causing trouble, Wu Li still finished first—half a day earlier than expected.
With the work done, the young couple walked hand in hand through the snow, their two silhouettes—one tall, one short—leaning crookedly on the pure white ground.
Suddenly, snow began to fall from the sky.
Thick and fluttering, fine and dense, as if someone had scattered broken jade from above.
“Wow! It’s snowing!”
Chai Xiaomi threw her head back, her eyes lighting up like they’d been set aglow. She reached out her palm to catch a flake, and one drifted down gently, landing steadily in her hand.
“It’s a snowflake! Lili, look—isn’t it pretty?”
She held her hand up to his eyes, but in that short moment, the flake had turned into a tiny drop of water.
She ran off to catch another, smarter this time—using her sleeve instead of her palm.
Whenever she caught a pretty one, she’d dash back to him, stand on tiptoe, and show him:
“Look, this one has six petals!”
“This one’s like a little star!”
“This one’s like a feather!”
...
On her head, Chai Xiaomi wore a tiger-head hat she’d bought in the town, with two fuzzy ears sticking up and a ring of white fur framing her face, making her eyes look rounder and brighter than ever.
She ran through the snow, a sprite at play—utterly adorable. Snow piled on the brim of her hat and caught on her lashes, melting into tiny beads of water with every blink.
Wu Li followed her step for step, his gaze never leaving her.
He suddenly realized that the ice-and-snow landscape was no longer the one he remembered.
Once, he had watched a snowfall.
Cold, lonely, and white enough to leave his heart hollow.
But as it turned out, snow could fall so lively—more vibrant than the summer cicadas’ chorus.
As she caught snowflakes, she began to hum a tune. The melody was soft, one he’d never heard before, like syrup slowly trickling into his ears.
He only needed to hear the lyrics once to remember them:
Taste a sour plum from the East, then give me a sweet one; I'm still thinking of that tavern's candied lotus root. Mom's sugar water—once you drink it, you'll never regret it, nor will you ever come back for another tipsy Guifei.
“Will you think of me? Will you love me? The gentle sweetness of a tender heart, my love hides in the fermented rice wine.”
“Spring, summer, autumn—no worries. In winter, the flavor isn’t enough. Snowflakes dot and reflect my heartstrings, painting sorrow, strumming a prelude of longing...”
She hummed, then suddenly turned back to look at him, her eyes curling into crescent moons: “Does it sound good?”
Snow fell on the crown of her head, on her shoulders, on her upturned lashes.
“It sounds good.”
Wu Li looked at her and thought—
He never wanted to watch the snow alone again.
