Chapter 132: 132 Snowball Fight and Snow Disaster

Chapter 132: Snowball Fight and Snow Disaster

The snow fell for a full day and night, transforming the Mountain Forest Town into a world draped in silver.

Rowning climbed to the top of the tower and gazed into the distance; the mountains, too, were buried beneath thick layers of snow, as if wrapped in a pristine white carpet.

“Here we are—stranded in the mountains.”

The heavy snow had sealed off the passes. For those living here, venturing out on such a day was nearly impossible.

First, the mountain paths were already treacherous; now buried under snow, their contours vanished, making horseback travel unthinkable—perhaps only Rowning’s Cloud-Treader could attempt it, but even then, progress would be agonizingly slow.

If supplies ran low and the snow continued, this winter would be brutal.

Thankfully, the sun had risen. He trusted it would melt the snow within days, sparing him from delays on his journey to Blackmount Keep.

“Oh, how beautiful~”

Eileen stood on the tower, gazing out, unable to suppress her awe.

“Back in Purpleberry Village, I never had the chance to climb high enough to see the snow like this. I never imagined it could look so… like this.”

The castle itself sat atop a hill, and the tower rose higher still—naturally, one could see far from such a vantage.

Rowning smiled at Eileen. She was bundled tightly in a sheepskin coat, hood drawn, gloves on her hands—completely encased.

It seemed, after all, that a mage’s body was no match for a knight’s.

A mischievous grin spread across Rowning’s face. He crouched, rolled a small snowball between his palms, then tucked it behind his back with quiet deliberation.

“Eileen, I have a gift for you.”

“Huh?”

Startled, Eileen turned from the snowy vista—surprised, yet delighted. “What gift, brother?”

Rowning smiled warmly. “Come, close your eyes. I’ll let you open them when I say—guaranteed, it’ll be a surprise you never saw coming.”

“Okay!”

Innocent Eileen shut her eyes, her mind drifting to the knightly novel she’d read—where the hero presents the heroine with a bouquet of flowers, confessing his love. Could it be…?

Her breath quickened. Her cheeks flushed.

Then—suddenly—a hand yanked open her coat, and a searing chill shot down her spine.

“Ahh!”

She gasped, eyes flying open—and there stood Rowning, roaring with laughter.

She realized then: his “mysterious gift” was a snowball.

She’d thought it was flowers.

Tears welled up instantly.

“Brother, you’re bullying me!”

Uh…

Rowning blinked, stunned. Was a child really this fragile? She was crying?

“Alright, alright, stop crying. You’ll look awful if you keep at it.”

He rushed to comfort her—but Eileen ceased weeping in an instant, snatched a handful of snow from the ground, leapt up, and shoved it down the back of his collar before he could react.

Her bright, bubbly laughter rang out.

“Ha! You’re not being honest!”

Rowning laughed and scolded, “You think I won’t teach you a lesson today?”

He bent down, this time rolling a much larger snowball.

Eileen giggled, hurling two snowballs at him as she darted away.

Rowning could have seized her in an instant—he was fast enough—but after so long as lord, he longed to play.

And so, a snowball fight began.

The chill had lingered at first, but after a few minutes of running, it vanished. Even with hands red and raw from packing snow, she felt no cold.

“I give up, I give up…”

Eileen surrendered first. Snowballs had struck her countless times; her hair and clothes were soaked.

“You’re good, Eileen—you got me a few times.”

Rowning walked over, brushing the snow from her head. “Alright, go take a hot bath. Don’t catch a chill.”

“Mm!”

Eileen beamed, nodding vigorously, clutching Rowning’s arm as she turned to head back.

But Rowning’s gaze caught a dark figure approaching the castle—sharp-eyed, he recognized Wilson at once.

“What’s the steward doing here?”

He frowned. “Eileen, go ahead. I’ll see what Wilson wants.”

Eileen noticed the man too. She understood her brother was about to work again, and nodded obediently.

Below the castle, Rowning met Wilson.

“My lord, Headman Hahn of Industrious Village reports that a farmer’s house collapsed under the snow.”

Rowning’s brow furrowed. “How? Didn’t I order the village heads to inspect every home thoroughly?”

Wilson replied, “I questioned Hahn. He’d been with me in Bamboo Grove Village recently, so he delegated the inspections to his team leader. But the leader responsible for this area, to save effort, never went door to door.”

Rowning halted, his face darkening. “Were there casualties?”

“No. But the family has nowhere to go.”

“Take me there.”

Moments later, Rowning arrived at the scene under Wilson’s guidance.

The collapsed house stood stark and cruel. Outside stood Wilson’s five assistants, Headman Hahn, the team leader, and four homeless villagers.

“Lord! Please, save us! Save us!”

The four, now without shelter, rushed forward, pleading. Without a roof, they would not survive the winter.

Rowning helped them up, soothing them. “Don’t worry. I’ll arrange repairs.”

He turned to Headman Hahn. “Your people are your responsibility. As headman, you must find them shelter. If you must, give them one of your own rooms!”

He did not offer them sanctuary in the castle—not because he refused, but because doing so would invite chaos.

If more families were displaced, he could not take them all in.

And he could not risk opportunists exploiting the situation.

“Yes, yes, my lord! I’ll send men right away!” Hahn trembled, feeling the lord’s fury.

“Wait.”

Rowning spoke sharply. “That team leader is dismissed. As for you, Hahn—I’m keeping you under observation. If this happens again, you’re gone too.”

Hahn’s heart rose to his throat. Though the matter had nothing to do with him, being implicated filled him with bitter anguish, yet he dared not defy the lord’s orders.

After arranging affairs for the disaster-stricken populace, Luo Ning took Wilson on a stroll through nearby villages and buildings, checking for any other victims.

Fortunately, no further deterioration occurred.

“From now on, handle such matters yourself. Report to me once completed,” Luo Ning said as they returned. “Those who take subsidies but do nothing—dismiss them. Don’t keep them.”

“Your servant understands!” Wilson followed, heart in his mouth.

He sensed the lord was in a foul mood today; should any further calamity arise, he himself might be held accountable.

He had not felt this trembling before the lord in a long time.

“Your five assistants have been recruited—nurture them well. Also, find time to convene a meeting with the group leaders and village heads. Tell them: as long as they serve me with sincerity, I shall not let them down.”

Luo Ning paused, then added, “The year-end is near. Compile the annual yields from all four villages. The rewards I promised must be delivered on time.”

“My lord, how generous you are!”

Wilson’s tension eased. He had not expected the lord to raise salaries for the common folk after this incident.

Thinking of Village Head Han being blamed, he hesitated, then asked, “My lord, if Jingye Village makes the top three, will they still receive rewards?”

Luo Ning considered. “One thing at a time. If Jingye Village ranks among the top three, the rewards stand as usual. But as for the dismissed group leader—no additional punishment is my mercy. Let him have a decent New Year.”

As they spoke, they arrived at the town—the only street in Mountain Forest Town.

The houses here were numerous, mostly built of wood and stone.

Well-constructed, they possessed some resilience against disaster; yet some clearly stood as perilous dwellings. If the snowfall persisted one more night, conditions would worsen.

Winter had only just begun. Snow might yet fall over the next two months, so inspections of hazardous homes must continue.

But Luo Ning clearly had no time to oversee such matters.

By month’s end lay Rulans’s birthday—he must arrive one or two days early. Once the snow melted, he would need to set out.

He had assumed the coming days would pass in quietude.

Yet he did not know that a crisis was drawing near, silent and unseen.

(End of Chapter)