Boston isn't ideal in this respect—it gets cold far too quickly.
Geographically, Boston sits at about 41 degrees latitude, which is roughly the same as Beijing. But in terms of climate, the cold sets in just like it does back in Jiang Hai's hometown, Ice City.
In many cultures, the first snowfall carries special meaning. For Jiang Hai, though, snow is just snow—nothing symbolic about it. After seeing it fall the night before, he shut all the windows and turned on the geothermal heating.
Even so, he didn't sleep very well. The windows had been open for a while, and closing them all of a sudden made the room feel stuffy. As a result, he woke up unusually early—six o'clock in the morning.
But in Boston, six o'clock is still more night than day—the sky was barely lit.
He opened the window to let in some fresh air, but as soon as he did, a gust of cold wind rushed in, making him shiver. Even the parts under his belt reacted with a twitch.
"Damn, that's strong. Winter's really here now…" he muttered, staring at the snow-covered scenery outside. Though a northerner at heart, Jiang Hai clearly preferred summer to winter.
Shrugging off the cold, he headed to the bathroom to wash up, changed clothes, and went downstairs.
Even Xiao Huang and Xiao Bai seemed more sluggish than usual. Ignoring their lazy antics, Jiang Hai opened the front door.
The moment it opened, cold wind flooded into the villa. Xiao Huang, Xiao Bai, and Jiujiu—who had been comfortably sprawled on the heated floor—immediately perked up and looked at Jiang Hai with annoyed expressions. Clearly, he'd disturbed their peaceful morning.
But Jiang Hai just chuckled and stepped outside. A blanket of white covered everything—the road, the lawn, even the man-made stream, now glazed with a layer of frost. Clearly, it had been a frigid night.
Stretching a bit, Jiang Hai exhaled a puff of white air and made his way toward the warehouse near the cowshed. He'd been helping bundle hay every morning lately. Sure, he was the boss—but that didn't mean he could sit around doing nothing.
However, just as he was about to head off, he saw Robbins-Garcia and a few others coming out of the warehouse with some supplies.
"Hey Robbins, no hay bundling today?" Jiang Hai asked, puzzled.
"Uh, boss, where are we supposed to find hay?" Robbins replied, glancing around with a helpless look.
Jiang Hai paused, then gave a sheepish laugh. Right—everything was buried under snow. Of course there was no hay to bundle. The silence that followed was a little awkward.
Sensing Jiang Hai's embarrassment, Robbins quickly changed the subject like a good wingman. "Anyway, boss, let's start by clearing the snow around your place."
"It's not that thick. No need to clear it," Jiang Hai said, raising his foot. The snow wasn't deep—just three or four centimeters. Definitely lighter than last year's first snowfall. While he hadn't followed tradition by eating fried chicken and drinking beer, the snow certainly didn't warrant much attention.
"That's exactly why we need to clear it now," Robbins explained. "It's going to hit thirteen degrees later. If the snow melts and refreezes tonight, it'll turn to ice."
Jiang Hai nodded—Robbins had a point. Icy patches at his front door weren't something he wanted to deal with. So he grabbed a broom and joined in.
Last year's first snow didn't fall until late November—and it had come down heavy. Brooms had been useless then. But this was light powder, ideal for sweeping. Shovels wouldn't help much on the grass, so they focused on the walkways and driveway.
Edward Anderson and his crew didn't head to the dock that morning and came to help too. With more hands, things got done faster. They started at six and had the whole area cleared by eight.
To double-check, Jiang Hai even took the helicopter with Maren Rupert for a quick flight over the manor. Once they confirmed every road was cleared, they returned home.
By the time they got back, Bernice, Xiaoya, Darlene, Marian, and Azarina were already up. Xiaoya had breakfast ready, and everyone gathered around the table.
"When did it start snowing last night? It came down so fast," Bernice asked as she ate the wontons Xiaoya made. She hadn't noticed anything before going to bed.
"Not long after you left, I think," Jiang Hai replied, trying to recall. He didn't quite remember when she left—only that he'd gone to bed after noticing the snow.
"Any plans for today, now that it's snowed?" Bernice asked with a smile.
"Probably not. Just planning to stay home," Jiang Hai shrugged. Truth be told, winter left him a little aimless. In summer, at least there were things to do. Last winter he mostly played basketball and went fishing—but that was when he was alone. Now with so many people around, neither of those seemed appealing anymore.
Ask him what he wanted to do in winter, and he'd probably draw a blank.
"If you've got nothing planned, how about making candied haws?" Bernice suddenly suggested.
Jiang Hai blinked, surprised, then rubbed his chin. "That… could work."
Candied haws are a classic Chinese snack—strung fruits dipped in molten sugar and frozen. Traditionally made with hawthorn berries, today's versions include grapes, kiwis, peaches, apples, strawberries, and more.
One crucial step, though, is proper freezing. A cold room or fridge doesn't cut it—the best flavor comes from being frozen by the natural cold air.
Bernice had mentioned this idea back in the fall. With all the fruit trees Jiang Hai had—thanks to the spiritual energy of the land—the fruits were exceptional. But it wasn't cold enough back then. Now it was.
"Awesome, let's do it together!" Bernice grinned and turned to the others. Xiaoya was thrilled—she'd had candied haws before. Darlene and Marian, though, had never tried it and exchanged curious glances. Azarina had eaten it once and didn't think much of it, but she still joined in.
With everyone on board, breakfast disappeared quickly. After eating, Jiang Hai and Bernice headed to the warehouse to choose some fruits.
Jiang Hai loved fruit, and his land grew a lot—hawthorn, blueberries, kiwis, nectarines, strawberries, cherries—just about everything. Looking at the bounty, Bernice was practically drooling.
They picked a good assortment and brought them back to the villa to start prepping. Removing seeds and peeling skins was straightforward enough, but they quickly ran into a problem: they had no bamboo sticks or rock sugar.
The girls were stumped.
"I'll go check in town," Jiang Hai offered. Bamboo sticks should be easy—used often for barbecue skewers. But rock sugar? That was trickier. Americans love sweets—granulated sugar, caramel, maple syrup—but rock sugar wasn't exactly common.
Still, Jiang Hai figured it was worth a try. After explaining the situation, he got in his car and drove into town.
On the way out, he passed a snowplow clearing the streets. Once it moved aside, Jiang Hai continued on and quickly saw that town was bustling—everyone was shoveling snow.
It hadn't been this lively since the last renovation project. And maybe it was because of the parties Jiang Hai had attended or his presence at the town's football games, but this time, young people greeted him with more friendliness. Some even waved on their own.
It was a good sign.
After parking, he tightened his coat and entered a store on the commercial street. Though labeled a "supermarket," it was really more of a convenience store. Still, business was good—even in winter, Winthrop got a trickle of tourists.
Inside, several Chinese tourists were picking out items—many of them grabbing cigarettes. It's a habit. Even though Jiang Hai didn't smoke, he knew a bit about American brands. Most people think of Marlboro, though it's actually Swiss. In the U.S., top sellers include Camel, Winston, Lucky Strike, and American Spirit—a brand with a smoking Native American on the label. Said to be pure tobacco with no additives, it's strong and quite popular.
The Chinese shoppers were limited to two packs per person, so options were scarce.
This store, incidentally, was one Jiang Hai owned and rented out. As soon as he walked in, the store manager greeted him warmly.
"Hey Jiang! Need anything today?" asked the bearded manager with a grin.
Jiang Hai paused. "Oh, hey… uh… Rowling?"
"Rowling Canal! You remembered—awesome!" Rowling beamed. He was clearly pleased Jiang Hai hadn't forgotten his name. With Jiang Hai becoming more integrated into the community, Rowling wasn't shy about showing goodwill.