We first met in the twelfth lunar month of winter.
On a cold evening in the north wind, she was followed when she returned from an outing. At the critical moment, she met him standing in the alley.
She grabbed his sleeve tightly: "Please help me."
He touched the top of her hair: "I promised that I would wait for you here. The road is not easy to walk. Why are you running in such a hurry?"
She could see clearly that he was wearing a dazzling black gauze on his arm.
Later. . .
He handed her a business card and stood at the entrance of the alley watching her walk quickly into the factory.
In the twelfth lunar month of winter, with the biting north wind, two people who had never met each other met unexpectedly in the vast sea of people. A "thank you" and a "goodbye" should have nothing to do with each other from now on.
But. . .
I thought the night would never see the light of day.
But there are some stories whose endings will never be known in the future.
"Second brother, why me?"
"I am afraid of the cold and prefer warmth, and you are my warm sun in winter."
She and him are like fireworks in the world, meeting the warm sun in the cold winter.
Intention: Cold winter meets warm sun