"Good morning, Uncle Ming."
"Morning."
"Uncle Ming, are you unhappy?"
"Hmm... hard to say. What about you?"
"I was a bit scared last night and didn't sleep well," said Qin Qianbai. "Did Yan Qi have another argument with everyone?"
"He had an argument with himself," Qin Ming said, "He managed to argue himself to victory and then went to rest."
The snow had been falling all night without pause, lightly dusting the tips of Qin Qianbai's hair. The girl ran back into the house and moments later came out with two rice straw hats. Qin Ming thanked her but didn't take one. She tied a hat on herself to shield from the snow and stood beside the tall and slender Qin Ming, like a little stone monk statue by the ancient path.
"How can someone argue with themselves?" Qin Qianbai asked.
