「In the blink of an eye, it was the Little New Year.」
On the day of the Little New Year, a bitter wind howled under a gloomy sky. It was so cold that dripping water turned to ice.
Just a single trip across the courtyard was enough to make one's nose run from the biting chill.
Experienced old farmers could tell at a glance that snow was coming. And it wouldn't be a light dusting—when it came, it was bound to be a heavy snowstorm.
Mrs. Zhao was making offerings to the Stove God; today was the day to send the Lord Stove off to Heaven.
After kowtowing, she said to Chen Wanqing, "A good snowfall would be welcome. We've only had one snow this winter, and the soil in the fields has dried into hard clumps. A proper snow would moisten the earth and kill off the pests in the fields, ensuring a good harvest next year."
She added, "We just had the roof tiles redone when you and Jing got married, so at least our family doesn't have to worry about the roof collapsing under the snow."
