The bloomed bud held no layered, fragrant petals—instead it bore a ring of fine, sharp teeth, like a sprung animal trap, biting down on Ed’s finger!

To be bitten by the very seedling he had so carefully tended was a tremendous shock. Ed screamed and shook his hand frantically, trying to break free!

Drops of blood flew and spattered, leaving dark red spots scattered across the ground and snow. Soil went spilling everywhere.

Cheng Weicai stared blankly, not knowing how to help Ed—until a sharp burst of pain jolted him back to himself.

He looked down: his own rose bud had bloomed too. And inside it were the same fine teeth.

The small green bud latched onto his finger with greedy hunger, blood dripping down one drop at a time…

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, a panicking Ed was tearing at the rose plant in a frenzy!

Stem and root were wrenched apart! Leaves and branches were trampled underfoot! By the time Ed finally managed to pull his finger free, the rose seedling had been utterly destroyed.

He came back to himself. Cradling his bloodied finger, he surveyed the wreckage around him, and the color slowly drained from his face.

The rose was dead. He wouldn’t survive either…

“Old man, what do I do…” Ed stared at Cheng Weicai, his expression both helpless and frantic. “My flower is dead… what do I do…”

He walked toward Cheng Weicai, his face a mask of desperation.

One step, two steps… three steps…

Shards of ice began forming at his feet. Frost crept across his face. He moved slower and slower.

“What do I do… what do I do… old man, please help me…”

Cheng Weicai was overcome with anguish. Even though this man had been his adversary—watching a living person turn to ice before his eyes, life made into such a cruel joke, the pain that wrenched his heart was beyond measure.

Ed stopped at last.

One hand frozen in the gesture of reaching toward Cheng Weicai for help, he became perfectly still.

Cheng Weicai could not bear to look. He lowered his head.

The temperature around him was dropping.

Cheng Weicai knew. The Snow Queen was here. She had punished Ed for harming the rose, and now she had come to inspect his.

He looked down at his own rose seedling.

The bud was still biting him—its ring of fine teeth, serrated like a saw blade, had gnawed his fingertip into a bloody mess. How could this be called a rose? It was clearly a creature that fed on human flesh and blood.

Cheng Weicai endured the pain and tried to pinch the bud shut with his other hand, forcing it to release.

But it held on like a venomous snake locked onto prey—no matter what he did, it would not let go.

He couldn’t apply more force.

However much it resembled a monster, its body was still that of a delicate rose. Any more force and he would damage the bud and the stem.

—

The Snow Queen stood a short distance away, watching in silence. She had not made a sound. She seemed almost curious to see how this old man would handle the dilemma before him.

Would he continue to endure the pain? Or would he pinch it off? Crush it? Trample it?

Ten fingers connect to the heart. The pain made Cheng Weicai break into a sweat in that frozen palace.

He took a slow breath, bent down, picked up a bowl of water from beside the fire pit, and aimed it directly at the opening of the bud—then poured it in.

The tiny bud was instantly filled with water. Unable to swallow it fast enough, it gagged and coughed, and promptly spit out Cheng Weicai’s finger.

Cheng Weicai immediately stepped back several paces to avoid being bitten again.

The Snow Queen slowly spoke: “Curious… you are the first person who did not harm it. Why?”

Cheng Weicai bit open his sleeve, tore off a strip of cloth, and began bandaging himself. His voice was aged and rough: “It’s only a child. I raised it myself—how could I bear to hurt it…”

“Cannot bear to hurt it, hm…” The woman gazed at the small bud.

Its pale green sepals were stained with crimson blood. As if unwilling to accept this, it trembled its leaves and opened and closed its serrated teeth—click, click, click…

The woman let out a wistful sigh: “Even though it’s only a child, it still hurts people. Being bitten still hurts.”

The bud continued to fidget, snapping its jaws as if searching for something else to bite. Its swaying leaves touched the fire pit—it was burned at once, and it snatched back immediately.

The woman said quietly: “You see—it doesn’t listen at all. It doesn’t just hurt others; it hurts itself too.”

—