The winter's melancholic song, the cold wind desolate, the distant Midair City is snowing again.
Flakes of pristine snow drift down from the heavily clouded sky, like catkins, like goose feathers, like jade leaves falling from the laurel tree in the Moon Palace, like jade butterflies flapping their wings.
The desolate Midair City is blanketed under layers of snow, suddenly becoming crystal-clear and beautiful, like a fairy tale castle carved in ice and jade from ancient legends.
Beyond the curtain, the snow begins to flutter, the night's chill has not diminished the fire, dreams a thousand miles away, longing grows more solitary.
Jiu Ge stands with his hands behind his back by the window, gazing deeply at the incessantly falling snow outside, motionless for a long time, lost in unknown thoughts.
The cold wind, carrying snowflakes, blows into the room, setting his snow-white clothes and long hair fluttering, yet he seems unfazed.
