February was exceptionally cold; it felt as though even the air had frozen solid.
Out in the fields, the winter wheat had undergone a dramatic transformation. The good news was that it was no longer a vibrant green, having been blanketed in a pristine layer of frost and snow; the bad news was that it was on the verge of freezing to death in the harsh cold.
Xue Yuantong slept all the way until half-past ten. When broad daylight finally filled the room, she blinked her eyes with extreme reluctance, then picked up her phone and, as expected, saw the "good night" message Jiang Ning had sent her.
Chapter 817