Crack, crack.
The edge of a garment brushed past, branches snapped and rebounded.
Snow on the shrubs fell with a rustling sound, piling up crisscrossed lines with sharp cones on the ground.
In Jiangnan, there is no heavy snow, but there is snow. Especially in January and February, these two days, there have been frequent light snowfalls in South Zhili, a thin layer sticking to the ground, partially revealing the earth, a mix of brown and white.
If the snow falls on the roof tiles, it presents a mixture of black and white, piling high, like a water bird in an ink painting.
"I'm so tired, cold, and uncomfortable. I should have known not to come."
"Damn it, I got seasick, haven't slept all night!"
"Just slipped and fell, now covered in mud…"
