Zhuang Zhuang studied it carefully. Other than a small part that was not standing up, the flower he made didn't look all that different from the other one. It actually looked pretty good, but…
"Flowers don't have a specific shape. On the contrary, they all have their unique sense of beauty because each one looks different from the others."
Seeing that Zhuang Zhuang was still looking puzzled, Xiaoguo asked again, "You were playing outside for a long time when we were building the snowmen. Did you notice anything different about the snow?"
"Snow?" Zhuang Zhuang racked his brains and finally shook his head. "What's so different about snow? Isn't it always cold and white?"
"Of course not." Xiaoguo shook her head. With that, she got up and went to the wardrobe. She opened it and rummaged for a piece of black cloth. "Zhuang Zhuang, come here."
