The full moon hangs high as snow dances through the air like silver serpents. This scene evokes the timeless imagery of the poet Du Fu: “My window frames the Western Peaks' eternal snow.”

Beneath the cool, crystalline veil of night, the drifting snow seems to descend from the celestial Guanghan Palace, crossing the Milky Way before settling upon the mortal world, washing away every trace of earthly dust. 

In the flickering candlelight by the window, strings of candied hawthorn—bathed in this serene, silvery moonlight—evoke a sense of exquisite clarity, like frost crystals shimmering deep within the soul.