On the streets of Shengjing, on the horizon in the distance, the sunset is reflected by the winter sunshine, like rouge on a woman's face, bright and moving.
A young man in white clothes, as white as a butterfly, with a circle of mink fur protruding from the collar, is holding a young girl with an immature face. He can't be considered a girl, but more like a little girl. Both of them wear an identical sapphire necklace around their necks, followed by several sturdy men like shadows.
"Brother Juechu, I'm tired." The little girl's skin is snow-white, which is rare among yellow people.
The boy knelt down and picked up the little girl. The little girl hugged the boy's neck and laughed.
The young man's heart skipped a beat, he raised his head, his brows were gentle, and he smiled lightly: "Zhu'er, your eyes are so beautiful."
The light and warm sunlight shines on the figures of the two people, creating a long and slow warmth like breathing.