A light breeze carried fine snowflakes, neon lights kept the night sky company.
In front of the villa gate, a slender figure stood in the wind and snow.
Her lips were already turning purple; if you got closer, you could even hear her teeth chattering.
And yet, even though her delicate body was shivering, she still forced herself to hold back, not shrinking her neck, nor pulling her clothes tighter.
Lin Bingqiao could feel her fingers no longer listening to her, while her feet didn't feel that cold, just itchy and numb.
At this moment, she couldn't control the way her gaze started to lose focus, and her thoughts began jumping around.
One moment she was a child, the family of three eating around the round table, and the next moment they were separated by death, and she was standing before her parents' graves, crying her heart out.
Gradually, her body began to sway, and her eyelids were fighting each other, as if she could collapse to the ground at any time.
