Winter's chill has passed its deepest phase.
These recent days were far less cold than before; in some places, plum blossoms are blooming in full splendor, while in others they have begun to wither and fall. Lu Boyong watched the cold plum petals scatter, extending his right hand to catch a few, carrying the cold intent of winter.
The old man's white hair was impeccably groomed, his white eyebrows carried a natural authority without anger, yet at this moment, there was a touch of gentleness.
He placed the two plum petals into the pond.
Next summer, the pond will be full of lotus flowers.
I send the cold plum to meet the lotus.
The old man smiled, turned, and walked into the house, holding a scroll he had read many times. Watching the fallen plum blossoms, like the last snowfall, he thought there would be many green sprouts next year. He looked up at the sky, somewhat dazed.
The times have changed.
The atmosphere of the Great Qin court has shifted.
