Gu Qingxue walked along the dry grass and into a small forest on the side.
It was the dead of winter, and the branches of the small forest were bare. The ground was covered in a thin layer of snow, and when one stepped on it, it made a squeaking sound, which gradually calmed Gu Qingxue's heart.
She hid her hand in her sleeve for warmth. Gu Qingxue looked up at the sky and opened her mouth to spit out a white mist.
With so many thoughts in her mind, Gu Qingxue's first thought was still her three little ones.
Her little ones' reluctance to part today was still fresh in her mind. Gu Qingxue could only force herself not to think too much. Otherwise, she was worried that she would lose control and want to return to the capital.
Gu Qingxue took a few deep breaths of the cold air. When she felt that her headache was no longer as bad, she turned around, intending to go back.
