Where Can I Find Snow to Match the Plum Blossoms?

The day before their wedding, Yang Bing carved an exceptional poem into the gates of Shengjing City and left alone. By the time Wei Jue arrived, all he could see were hoofprints fading into the snow. They had shared happy times once: splitting a bowl of hot soup on the road through the jianghu, and deciding where to plant a plum tree in a drafty house. But Wei Jue was a prince in exile, and Qixia Mountain, which had taken him in, was bound by an unbreakable vow. Yang Bing, too, had someone she had to protect. Now that he finally held the power to rewrite his fate, why wouldn’t she stay? The story begins with a snowfall many years ago. Plum blossoms bloom, the snow blankets the old mountain. Together we wandered, the road home stretching on. A single lamp once lit our faces, side by side. An old friend holds to duty, each bearing their own hardship. I long to hold your sleeve, but the wind slips in, chilling my clothes. Spring is nearly here. Why have the plum blossoms withered first? I urge my horse onward, daring not to look back.