Ending: In the twelfth lunar month of winter, the biting cold wind picked up the snow, which made people's faces hurt. A crazy woman in a tattered cotton-padded jacket managed to hold on, limping and hiding under the bridge. Her withered grass-like hair was covered with ice slag. She was panting violently and slowly lifted her hair, revealing an ugly face full of scars. It turned out to be Qin Huairu! I saw her tremblingly raising her hand to touch her cheek, and couldn't help but cry bitterly. With a bang, she fell to the ground, completely silent.
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