Little Flower took the lead and ran towards her, with the little Tibetan fox following behind.
When the two little ones ran up to her, she reached out and touched them, asking, "Didn't you catch the snow chicken?"
Little Flower nestled against her hand and let out a sob.
"Looks like they're really hard to catch."
Lu Fangfang stroked its head, still feeling a little regretful.
Ever since she tasted the snow chicken half a month ago, she couldn't forget it. Unfortunately, in the past half month, Xiao Hua and Xiao Tibetan Fox haven't had any more success.
"If you can't catch it, then forget it and go have some fun."
Lu Fangfang petted the two of them, then picked up her drawing board.
She was thinking that after it snowed, she would ask Zhuang Mingcheng to go up the mountain and set some snares to see if they could catch a snow chicken.
If all else fails, we'll just have to wait until next year to go up the mountain and look for snow eggs.
After thinking for a while, she lowered her head and continued drawing.
Lu Fangfang spent a long time drawing the last two pictures.
After returning home and having dinner, she sat at her desk and worked until after eight o'clock before finally finishing the drawing.
She breathed a long sigh of relief as she finished the last stroke.
Beside him, Zhuang Mingcheng, just like his wife, also breathed a sigh of relief.
As his wife's belly grew bigger, he worried that she would get tired, so he finally finished the painting.
He picked up a small shovel, scooped some spruce towers from the basin, and threw them into the iron stove.
"Boom!"
As soon as the spruce tower was put into the furnace, it burst into flames.
As October arrived, the weather became even colder, especially at night, sometimes dropping below zero.
To make his wife comfortable while she painted, Zhuang Mingcheng went to the county to buy an iron stove and some chimneys, which he then placed in the inner room.
"Mingcheng, stop throwing spruce towers into the stove. It's hot enough inside."
Lu Fangfang unbuttoned her collar and glared at him again.
At this rate, she felt that the Spruce Tower would be completely burned down before the New Year.
"I was just worried that you and the child would be cold."
Zhuang Mingcheng leaned close to his wife's belly and listened carefully.
As if sensing something, a smile appeared on his face.
"It's still early in the month, what can you possibly hear? Stop fooling around. Go find me some parchment paper, I'll organize the artwork and mail it out tomorrow."
As Lu Fangfang spoke, she took out all sixty-one drawings.
She wrote numbers on them all, so she wasn't afraid of making a mistake.
After carefully checking each one and finding no mistakes, she placed her animal drawings on top.
Among them are her paintings of Tibetan wild asses, snow leopards, Pallas's cats, pikas, and a weasel she just painted today, all on separate sheets of paper.
She doesn't know what the art publishing house thinks, but she plans to mail them all at once.
If it can be published, that would be great; if not, then forget it.
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