The three of them picked up their pace, and after advancing some distance, they did indeed feel the wind and snow easing.

Still bitterly cold, but it gave them hope. Their strides quickened, one unbroken push forward. After they had gone two or three hundred meters, the blizzard had reduced to an ordinary heavy winter snowfall.

Another two or three hundred meters, and the wind had weakened, the snow grown faint — delicate flakes drifting softly down — while the city streetscape ahead came fully into view.

“Wonderful, we’re finally through!” Cheng Weicai’s spirits lifted.

Brian and Ed both exhaled at the same time.

Once free of that terrible blizzard ring, their steps grew lighter too. They half-ran into the city streets and found supplies without too much difficulty.

Only soil proved the hardest to come by.

The flowerbeds were buried under ice and snow, the earth frozen rock solid. It took the three of them an enormous effort to finally dig out a large bag’s worth.

For proper flower-growing, this was probably still not enough — but for seedlings, it was more than sufficient. Besides, they couldn’t carry much more soil anyway, because they also had to bring back various bowls and pots, wooden furniture for fuel, cotton padding, and additionally Cheng Weicai had shouldered more than a dozen bricks.

The return journey was equally grueling.

The closer they drew to the castle, the more the wind and snow raged, exactly as in a fairy tale — wherever the Ice Queen dwelled, the blizzard never ceased.

…

When they reached the castle, Brian took particular note of the time. Two hours had already passed.

In other words, if they needed to go out for supplies again, they would have to allow at least two hours each way.

Ed heaved the castle door shut.

The door could block wind and snow, but not the cold. Ed’s hands were red and raw, his toes numb — he felt as though he had been soaking in an ice pit.

Brian shed the heavy load from his back and called to the companion nearby, “Erik, come help.”

His teeth chattered faintly as he spoke from the cold.

Erik, upon hearing his voice, slowly rose and laboriously unwrapped the sleeping bag he had been bundled in for warmth, then shuffled over, shaking.

Brian noticed that Erik’s face had turned a ghastly bluish color and couldn’t help but say, “You need to at least keep moving. This place is like a freezer — lying still will kill you faster.”

Erik rubbed his arms. “Quick… quick, make a fire… it’s so cold…”

Cheng Weicai was also desperately cold. Like Brian, he hastily shed his backpack — the bricks inside all tumbled out.

The floor was all ice; you couldn’t start a fire directly on it.

Cheng Weicai laid out a layer of bricks on the ice, placed a large stainless steel basin on top, stuffed it with scraps of cotton cloth and thin twigs, then clicked the lighter — click, click, click.

His fingers had gone stiff. It took several tries before the flame caught.

The small fire consumed the cotton scraps, consumed the twigs, and then took hold of table legs, chair backs, and drawer dividers — growing larger and larger.

All four gathered around the fire, eyes bright with its glow, each of them wishing they could simply throw themselves in and roll about.

At last — warmth.

“The seeds…” Brian reminded them. “Let’s plant them now.”

Everyone took out their seed.

Such a tiny thing — it felt as if a slightly too-heavy breath might blow it straight into the fire.

Cheng Weicai dug some of the soil they’d brought back, carefully picked out the larger stones and debris mixed in, then packed it into the lid of his water cup.

The palm-sized lid seemed just right for seedlings.

The others, seeing this, followed suit — each unscrewing their cap and filling it with soil. Then they pressed a small hollow with a fingertip, nestled the seed inside, carefully added a little water to keep the soil moist —

Cheng Weicai set his lid near the fire basin and let out a long breath. “As long as the temperature stays like this, it should sprout…”

He prayed silently.

If the seed would only sprout, grow, and bloom — he could bring a sword back for his Weiwei…

—