It’s still that narrow alley, no car can drive in, so he parked the car outside the alley, then got off and walked into the alley.
The stone road in the entire alley was covered in snow; the heart-stirring green moss that grew on it in the sumr was no longer visible.
Atlas Hallow’s strides were not large, there was an umbrella in the car but he didn’t take it, snowflakes fell on his broad shoulders, impressively cinematic and moving.
Atlas Hallow liked the feeling of cold because the low temperature always kept one clear-headed, but Charlotte Miller preferred warmth. If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t even have the heat on in his room, let alone a fireplace, but she liked it.
She liked it to be warm everywhere, then curl up on the sofa in a wide robe reading a book; this way, it was also convenient for them both to wear less clothing.
Thinking of her, his heart would leap like the flas in the fireplace, burning almost to suffocation...
He slowly walked to the snake soup stall at the end of the alley.
Today, there weren’t many people at the stall; sumr was the season when snake at was at its best. Co sumr, it would be hard to get a single bowl here, and with the snow so heavy today, a few old gourts sat inside the shop in cotton robes, with a small stove on the table. The little copper pot on the stove already had boiling water in it, and with white snake bones and a whole chicken thrown in, the brewed soup was quite exceptional. The table was also covered with plates of snake at sliced as thin as cicada wings, then drizzled with a bit of oil before being dipped into the soup. The snake hotpot was also a specialty here, said to be extraordinarily delicious, but Atlas Hallow never ate snake.
The shop’s ill-tempered, eccentric woman was still there deftly killing snakes, using a long spike to secure the snake’s head, holding down the writhing body; once she peeled back the skin, the white snake at appeared section by section. Atlas stood in front of the woman; she glanced up, then looked at the heavy greasy curtain, and continued with her work.
Atlas didn’t say anything, he lifted the curtain and went inside.
In Flower Snake’s courtyard, many small coal furnaces were burning, and a pungent sll filled the air.
Perhaps it’s because snakes fear the cold? After the snow, the roof was also covered, and with so many stoves lit, the temperature was high but the sll in the yard was quite unbearable.
After passing through the yard, he reached the room where Flower Snake lived, and the sll in Flower Snake’s room was much better.
He still sat there, frail and pale. When he saw Atlas Hallow co in, he grinned: "The snow is so heavy, and you drive as fast as you did in your younger days."
Flower Snake wore a thick cotton-padded jacket with a red clay stove on the table. A copper teapot on the stove was polished to a shine, its mountain spring water already boiling with steam rising from it.
Flower Snake’s earlier call wasn’t a joke; he really did have so good tea. The boiling water had washed the tea leaves apart, releasing an enchanting aroma.
Atlas Hallow held a cup of reddish-brown tea soup, the hot tea flowed over his tongue, the fragrance rich and smooth, an extraordinarily beautiful flavor.
This suddenly made him think of Charlotte Miller; if she tasted such tea now, she would probably crave it to no end, wouldn’t she?
Thinking of the scene from the morning, a tender, intriguing smile involuntarily spread across his lips.
Flower Snake took a glance and faintly smiled, his distinct voice lifted in the air: "It was unexpected that you would marry and have children."
Atlas Hallow took another sip, then set down the teacup, his thin lips parting as he slowly said: "In this world, there are no unexpected events, only unexpected people."
For him, anything could happen in this world; he never felt anything was truly unexpected.
However, encountering a woman like Charlotte Miller was genuinely surprising. Clever as she is, beautiful as she is, enchanting as she is, alluring as she is, irresistible as she is, she is a gift from the Creator to n.
Flower Snake smiled again, took a sip of tea, then set down his cup. As he looked at Atlas Hallow, his gaze beca serious and earnest: "The matter you asked to investigate has results, but it seems to be a bit troubleso."
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