Xiao Qingcheng

The crisp sound of peach blossom tree roots stretching under the ice was mixed with the roar of ice cracking in the distant mountain stream. In the gap between the snow falling to the ground, a clear laughter suddenly flowed along the cold wind, like the silver bell flower suddenly blooming on a winter night, waking up the sleeping ice crystals. In the gap between the falling ice edges, a goose-yellow figure stepped on the ice crystal debris and landed gracefully. Where she tapped her toes, the broken ice was suspended in the air like stars, reflecting an iridescent halo. Her knee-length black hair flows like a waterfall of ink, with a pink and white ribbon wrapped around the end of her hair. It sweeps past her ankles as she moves, and the cold wind brought up is wrapped in the faint fragrance of peach.