"The more desires a person has, the less freedom he has." Someone seemed to have said this to her, and the man standing alone at the top of the turret was thinking silently in his heart. Swirling snow covered the prosperous age. Her eyes looked towards the capital city. It was as dark as night and shone with the moonlight reflected on the white snow. She had the intention of reaching out to touch the snowflakes falling from the sky, but a gust of winter wind brought biting coldness. She couldn't help shivering, and then she gathered up the black fox fur cloak around her body and subconsciously shrank her neck, as if she wanted to bury her face in it.
