WHOOSH~
Pristine white snow stretched out as the cold wind howled.
"Hah! Yah!"
Amidst the wind and snow.
A young boy, clad in thin clothes, stubbornly practiced his sword forms in the courtyard. He clutched a wooden sword, his little face blue with cold.
COUGH COUGH~
Inside the humble thatched hut.
The weak coughs of a young girl could be heard intermittently, mingling with the wailing wind and snow in a heart-wrenching symphony.
CREAK~
The dilapidated wooden gate opened.
"Ye Xuan, practicing your sword again?"
Mo Chen's breath plumed in the cold air. He cupped a bowl of watery vegetable porridge, his whole body trembling.
"Mo Chen."
Ye Xuan put down his wooden sword and hurriedly ushered Mo Chen into the drafty hut. His eyes fell on the clear porridge, and he swallowed hard, bowing his head as tears welled up.
"Mo Chen, you didn't have to. Things are hard for you too."
PAT!
