The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Heavy snow falls from a deep indigo sky, silently blanketing a sprawling, ornate temple complex, its intricately carved stone walls already half-buried. The air is crisp and biting, with a hint of incense and sandalwood, as the stillness feels almost palpable, like the snow's muffling everything. In a central courtyard, an ancient, worn stone fountain somehow continuously pumps crystal-clear water from its center, perfectly recycling it through the same loop of cascading pools and streams, despite no visible signs of pressure or mechanics. Umm, the snow just accumulates around it, unmelting.