It startled his mother, who then laughed and scolded him.
The alley clad in silver was silent. His mother carried him all the way back, and their footprints were soon covered by the heavy snow.
Amidst the swirling snowflakes, not a single figure could be seen.
In the not-so-spacious alley, every household had tightly shut their doors and windows. There was no fire, no lights, as silent as a graveyard.
His mother was whispering something in his ear, but before long, even her voice disappeared.
He got off his mother's back and walked on the ground again.
Stepping on the thick snow, he heard no sound and, for a moment, thought he had gone deaf.
Then he turned his head to look at the windows of the surrounding houses.
He saw his father continuously practicing alchemy, constantly failing.
His father started cultivating from a young man, and began practicing alchemy after marrying his mother.
