In the winter in Yanjing, there is a lot of snow.
As I walked along the street with Yuesheng, I saw a man sitting on a bench from a distance. She lowered her head, her face buried in her collar, and her hair fell down to cover her face. The dusk was dark and the snow was dense, making it difficult to see her appearance.
He stood behind her and didn't move. The wind blew in through the collar, and it was bitingly cold. But she kept her back straight, not brushing the snow off her shoulders. She just sat upright, as if she was nailed to the chair.
Then the time sequence turned around.
Sui Yuesheng was wearing a black formal suit and holding a handful of white chrysanthemums in his hand. He stood in front of a cold tombstone and sent her away.
"If it rains all night, then I will wait with you until it stops."
"Goodbye."
