When Chiwo posed this question, Tang Long looked up at the snow falling heavily from the sky.
The snow was swirling, descending from the sky, blanketing the already gloomy Manchester sky in a gray blur.
"Are you joking, Mr. Chiwo? I guess there must be at least a few hundred snowflakes!"
Tang Long responded offhandedly, but Chiwo took it seriously.
"Specifically, the football hit 2,453 ice crystals, and the airflow it caused altered the trajectory of 3,489 surrounding snowflakes."
Chiwo held the football covered in snowflakes with both hands.
At the point where his palms supported it, some of the snowflakes melted from the warmth seeping through his black woolen gloves, soaking Chiwo's hands.
Tang Long knew Chiwo wouldn't deceive him, but the number precise to the single digit left him spellbound.
