The moment the thirty-eight-year-old Cheng Youning closed her eyes, tightly holding the yellowing wedding invitation in her hand, she buried the past twenty years with him in her heart and made a wish.
Cheng Youning knew that she loved someone, but she couldn't brush away the falling snow on his shoulders, nor smooth out his frown. She couldn't do it alive, and she couldn't die.
Intention: Even if we look at each other in silence, I still want to brush the snow off his shoulders and smooth his brows