Time seemed to stand still, Cherry Valley in front of Xiao Xian gave her the illusion of being stuck in March or April. It wasn't that Cherry Valley was unaffected by the snowy weather, rather the opposite; the white snow highlighted the various fruit trees and the beautiful flowers of late winter even more charmingly.
At the entrance of the valley, rows of persimmon trees full of amber-colored persimmons contrasted starkly with the desolate tire tracks left by vehicles on the ground.
The roses had withered, and ice shards coated the pruned branches, emitting a crystal-like brightness under the harsh moonlight.
A few rare blackish-purple cherries hung on the cherry trees.
Outside, vegetation had long withered, it was rare to see a variety of winter fruits hanging on the branches, no wonder Feng Xing was amazed.
