Initially, she still used her hand to brush off the snow that had fallen on her, but as the snowfall grew heavier and the snow collected on her body quicker than she could brush off, she just gave up. She pulled the sleeves of her coat up further and allowed the snow to pile on her. It took barely a moment for her hair and shoulders to collect a white sheen of snow.
Su Zhinian frowned unconsciously. His eyes that seemed to focus on the document would occasionally wander to look out the window.
Song Qingchun changed her pose because she was tired from maintaining the same posture. As she moved, her eyes swept across the floor-length window of the café opposite from her, and through the glass, she caught a familiar figure sitting within.
