Listening to the Sound of Snow and Sighing

About This Novel

The snow has been warm for thousands of years, and people are singing. When walking in the snow, I raise my eyes to smell the fragrance of spring; when the mountain is full of flowers, when I hear the snow and smell the beauty of the flowers, my face is beautiful and the flowers have faded. Listening to the snow withering, listening to the snow growing, I trade Sheng songs for sorrow and music. When the bright moon rises from Kunlun, listening to the sound of snow, listening to the snow growing, it will eventually be annihilated.

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