C312 Interpretation

"Ai!" Ma Juncai sighed.

On the top of his head grew an emerald green garlic sprout.

It was snowing.

The north wind whistled.

The wind rolled the snow white.

A sickle seemed to have traveled through time and space to rest on Ma Juncai's neck.

Ma Juncai stared at Grey-clothed Old Man with his pair of long and narrow phoenix eyes