No one knows.
Henry Cooper's habits and the arrangement of his room retained the memories of his childhood in the Kingdom of Canaan.
Everything was pure and white as snow.
That's why Xander Harl and Lude Johnsons were confused when they entered his house.
At this moment.
The night is falling.
The moon is hidden behind clouds.
The frozen Northern Country presents a dark, gloomy scene.
Henry Cooper is in his chamber, gazing at the woman beside him, as serene as a painting, a cool-toned masterpiece.
Her face, having slept for days, remains as indifferent as usual.
Intimidating, making people afraid to approach.
"Little mosquito, have some iced lotus honey water."
Henry Cooper's tone is gentle, as if whispering sweet nothings to a lifelong partner. However, the woman's lips need his long spoon to slowly and softly pry open, sending in the snow lotus honey water fetched from the ice mountain—moisture, nourishment.
