As Old man Lin's orders were conveyed one by one, everyone became busy in an organized and efficient manner.
The sky was filled with flying snowflakes, and the biting cold wind chilled to the bone, yet the village was bustling with excitement and warmth, as if it could melt the snowy blossoms in the sky.
Some were calling out to others, while others prepared what was needed.
Behind the square, in the village's open-air kitchen, a chef skilled in Jiang Hui's culinary arts was quickly stirring and frying delicious food in his wok.
The aromas of the dishes were tantalizing enough to make one drool three feet.
Smoke rose from the stoves as a festive atmosphere enveloped the area; this could only be described as a Mortal Fairyland, because this fairyland belonged solely to the mortal realm.
After a short while, brothers Lin Zhuang and Lin Chen Er also joined, followed by a group of their rascally offspring.
