Allen Rivera's place is also a square courtyard, with a hot spring and plum blossoms.
Jane McCain walked into the courtyard, looking around. Allen asked her, "What are you looking at?"
"Where's your tree?" Jane asked curiously, "Gilbert said everyone in your family has a tree, and when they're in a bad mood, they carve it a bit."
"Over there." Allen led her to a corner of the courtyard.
The snow was piled up thickly and left unswept. Allen bent down, reached out, and swept aside some of the snow, revealing a different texture underneath.
After sweeping a few more times, its true form appeared—a low tree stump.
The stump wasn't big, just slightly larger than the mouth of a bowl. Covered in snow, it looked just like a clump of earth at first glance, completely unrecognizable as a tree stump.
Jane felt a twinge of pity, squatting down to sweep the remaining snow off the stump.
