The snow was falling heavily, as if white sand was drifting down, landing on everyone's brows and hair.
Among them, Duoji's hair was the funniest, a small tuft of pure white snow piled on his fiery red head, like a frozen torch.
He had braided his hair again, returning to his former hairstyle, but he was no longer wearing the red robes of the Qiangrong.
Qin Zhenghu looked at Gu Lan and the others, almost moved to tears: "Alright, I will definitely come back to see everyone."
Duoji looked at the group of people from Yan Country and muttered under his breath: "Are you ever going to stop? Weren't you supposed to be sending me off? Lord Qin will be my subordinate in the future, can't you be a bit nicer to me?"
Gu Lan raised an eyebrow and retorted, "My Lord? Who are you referring to as My Lord?"
Duoji: "...Uncle, I was wrong."
"Dear nephew," Gu Lan curled his lips, turned around, moved his ears, and gazed into the distance, "I have a surprise for you."
