When Qian Qiuxue saw Zhuo Zhuo for the first time, she had just opened the window, and the air-conditioning mixed with snowflakes came in, blowing away the thick and suffocating fragrance in the room.
Outside the window is Minshan Mountain, where thousands of years of snow have not melted. The boat is parked on the frozen river, with ice-breaking iron claws installed on the keel. Under the lead-colored sky, it shines with a cold light.
"You said your surname is Qian, then let's call you Qian Qiuxue." Zhuo Zhuo said casually.
Qian Qiuxue doesn't feel ashamed, she even feels lucky. If her surname was Wan, wouldn't she have to be called Wanli Chuan?
The name Qian Qiuxue was particularly well-chosen, as it encompassed her entire life as a grandma who did not love her uncle.
Just like the ice and snow on Minshan Mountain, it is so sharp and cold that it is terrifying.
But fortunately, she encountered a tree in the wind and snow, which was full of flowers.
And, it has never withered again.
Conception: