The whooshing cold wind carried an extra chill in the winter days.
Even though they were dressed warmly, it seemed to be of little help.
Sitting in the car with the heater on, it took a while for everyone to warm up.
But the warmth made it easy to get sleepy.
Old Qin sat in the passenger seat, leaning back against the chair, his eyelids slightly swollen—an age-related issue; staying up late caused his eyes to easily puff up.
Qin Yue nestled on Chen Cang's shoulder, her big eyes fixed on the car's ceiling window, staring at the pitch-black sky, deep in thought.
The car wound its way along the mountain roads, and Qin Yue whispered in Chen Cang's ear, "Would you ever hit me?"
Chen Cang was startled but couldn't help but laugh, "Of course not."
Qin Yue continued to ask, "What about gambling?"
Chen Cang kept shaking his head.
He wasn't a man who loved to gamble; he always preferred stability.
