Xueyao

The pure white holy snow enveloped the whole world, and the foggy pine tree also rarely lowered its proud head. However, there was a touch of complexity in this supposedly peaceful morning. The footprints left occasionally are indelible marks. I never thought that such a day would come. Maybe even if I knew it, I would be afraid to admit it. Putting on the warm fox fur, pushing open the vermilion wooden door, and inhaling a little scent of snow, everything seemed unchanged. However, only I understood that under this calmness, there was already a turmoil. Occasionally, a little bit of worldly nostalgia falls from the plain white world. They are tears of water, but unfortunately they have dried up... The cold snow is on my wrist...