The Terminally Ill Young Master of the Baek Clan

Dark clouds heavily blanketed the sky.

On days with heavy snowfall, the boundary between heaven and earth became unclear.

It wasn’t quite to that extent yet, but a flurry of snow gently descended.

Unlike rain, snow drifted on the wind.

Like leaves from the celestial white poplar tree falling, a large snowflake traced the character ‘之’ as it silently fell.

That snowflake landed softly on the straight bridge of Yi-gang’s nose.

Naturally, the snowflake should have melted from his body heat, but it persisted for quite some time.

This indicated that Yi-gang had been outside for a long time, his cheeks flushed red.

“The snow is falling.”