Chapter 93 The Fierce Snowfall
The snow fell heavier and heavier, and the snow piled up thicker and thicker, soon making it difficult to go outside.
That day, Feng Qingge was nestled on a soft couch in her room, drinking tea, when she heard a noise coming from the courtyard gate.
As she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs, she guessed who it was. Due to the heavy snow, Feng Qingjue had taken leave to return home these past few days.
Sure enough, the door opened and a man wearing a white fur cloak entered; it was Feng Qingjue.
"Brother." He sat up straight and gave Qi Quan a look, signaling him to come forward.
Qi Quan understood, took Feng Qingjue's cloak, patted off the snowflakes, and hung it on the screen beside him.
The two courtyards were next to each other, and it was only a few steps away, but because of the thick snow, it was difficult to walk, so there was a lot of snow on their cloaks.
The house was warm because of a stove, and the snowflakes that fell to the ground melted quickly.
"This snow is really heavy." As soon as she entered the door, Feng Qingjue's first words were an exclamation. Such heavy snow probably only happens once in a hundred years.
"Have a cup of hot tea." Feng Qingge's eyes were unfathomable, as if something flashed through them, and she did not respond to his previous sentence.
Unaware, Feng Qingjue sat on the soft couch, took the tea, and sipped it.
"Why did you rush over here in such heavy snow?" Feng Qingge handed him one of the small hand warmers she was holding and then complained.
"I was just in a hurry and wanted to ask if you knew what was going on." She smiled, revealing a gentle look on her face, which bore a resemblance to hers.
Everyone in the family knows about Feng Qingge's eyes, but Feng Cang doesn't know about her ghost-catching skills. However, the person in front of him clearly does.
The continuous heavy snow has almost submerged the capital, and the momentum shows no signs of abating. If this continues, it will only be a matter of time before the capital falls.
So Feng Qingjue sat in the mansion for several days, feeling really uneasy, and wanted to come and ask her.
"It's nothing, just something acting up." Holding the hand warmer, he waved his hand dismissively.
Feng Qingjue was speechless. They were practically burying the person alive, and his sister didn't seem to care at all. What was he supposed to say?
"What is that?" He knew her eyes. He remembered when his mother had a difficult childbirth when he was a child. He, his older brother, and his father waited anxiously outside the door. After Qingge was born, he and his older brother hid behind the curtain. That was the first time he saw her eyes. They were deep red, like blood, and unpredictable.
Ever since Master Shikong took Qingge away and then brought her back a few days later, Qingge's eyes returned to normal. However, this was only on the surface.
Feng Qingge shook her head, "I don't know, I only sensed some aura." This was also the reason why she hadn't made a move; this thing was unknown to her, and it was very likely a powerful opponent.
Feng Qingjue was also in a dilemma. Even Qingge couldn't do anything about it. Should she just let it go?
"If this continues, will the capital be buried in snow?" He put down his cup, unsure of what to do.
Feng Qingge paused, looked up, and leaned back slightly. "What are you worried about? The Emperor himself isn't in a hurry."
"Don't talk nonsense." He glared at her, stopping her from spouting nonsense.
Feng Qingjue is Feng Cang's son, so he is somewhat rigid at heart. Although he is not like this in other aspects, when it comes to the relationship between ruler and subject, he becomes just like Feng Cang.
"Alright, alright, don't worry about this. Someone will make a move before us," Feng Qingge lazily raised her cat eyes to comfort him.
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