The light rain was dense, and in the mist, a blurry figure walked from the distance.
His figure came slowly and leisurely through the snow. Gradually, his figure became clearer.
Dressed in dark black clothes, with black hair as smooth as water, and an oil-paper umbrella with purple bamboo and plum blossoms, her face was half covered, revealing only her tightly pursed thin red lips and handsome chin.
Bai Yu stood tall, and the messy light rain flew across his sight.
Seeing the man approaching him, Bai Yu gave a faint smile.
Mo Yuan tilted the oil-paper umbrella towards Bai Yu, shielding Bai Yu from the light rain.
Bai Yu's mouth still had a slight curve: "Mo Yuan, you are back." It was not a question, just a statement.
His dark eyes stared at Bai Yu quietly, as if he had a thousand words to express, but in the end he just responded softly: "Well, I'm back."