Mo Yi's life is like a quiet island, and he is used to breathing alone among the gaps in the crowd. It's bone-chillingly cold in Hokkaido in February, but the snow lanterns on the Otaru Canal are as warm as a dream. At the junction of the warm light and the snow, a boy named Jin Rong rushed in recklessly with a silly look and an overly bright smile.
A scarf with residual body temperature, two cups of hot cocoa to warm your hands, and a missed appointment by accident.
I thought it was just a chance encounter, but the warmth of my heartbeat lasted until the rainy season in Tokyo. When the familiar figure appeared again under the transparent umbrella, and when the words "I like your smile" disturbed his mood again, Mo Yi discovered that the snow in Hokkaido had long melted, and the seeds in his heart were breaking out of the ground.
This is a story about loneliness and warmth, cowardice and bravery. It happens when the snow falls and after spring comes.
Purpose: Use the stories I write to convey warmth