Looking at the snowy Linghai City, listening to the New Year's bell and the countdown of the crowd's shouts, Linghu Moxi walked onto the car with an umbrella and lit a lady's cigarette. She looked at He Chen, who was smiling happily in the crowd. Next to him was his soon-to-be-engaged wife. She took a sip from the cigarette in her hand, slowly exhaled the light smoke, and sighed with tears in her eyes, "He Chen, it's been nine years."
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
