Wen Jiu has never forgotten that winter.
In the small living room, she and Changbai sat quietly, the Spring Festival Gala was playing on the TV, and the sound of her mother cooking dumplings came from the kitchen. The snow outside the window could be heard falling, the air was moist and warm, and her chest felt hot.
Like a crystal ball music box, Wen Jiu treasured it deep in her memory. When she shook it, the snow in the crystal ball began to swirl, accompanied by familiar music, but she could only watch it cautiously.
The beginning of the story is like a dream, and then they wake up from the dream, leaving only them broken.
"Brother?"
"Yeah."
"We will never separate, okay?"
Concept: Love is the thin air in the chest, the torn dusk, and a mountain with white peaks.
