In the cabin outside the cemetery, Song Yan had prepared the meals and waited for the return of the first snow.

About a quarter of an hour later, on the rugged mountain road leading to the cemetery, a thin figure was climbing with some difficulty. It was the first snow.

"Come back?"

Song Yan, standing in front of the wooden house, smiled at the early snow.

"Master, the maidservant is late, so go and cook for you!" First snow bowed her head and dared not look at Song Yan, but worried that Song Yan saw the whip marks on her face. Yes, Chu Feng's whip just hit her face.

"Wait!"...