The crescent moon hang on the sky, the luminous shine of it contrasted to the starless sky. The wind whistled by and the temperature was bone-chillingly cold, especially on top of Mingxi Mountain. The person who could step atop of it couldn't have been ordinary, for one would find that their skins froze and their organs degenerated before they could do anything.
In short, it was an inhuman coldness.
But strangely, Qing'er enjoyed this type of coldness against her scales.
She had always hated summer, the temperature was hot, and the air was stuffy. There really wasn't anything worth enjoying about. But in winter, she could gaze into the cloudless sky, blew out steam from her mouth and rolled around in the freezing snow.
For the centuries years old ancient dragon, it was one of the simplest and joyful thing amid her long life.