It was already February, but it was snowing heavily again.
Sang Qianqian carried her child and stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. She held the child's little finger and drew a small window decoration on the glass that was faintly fogged.
Through the blurry glass, she could see a car driving into the house.
The person was familiar with the place and went straight into the house. Before she entered, a voice rang, "Sister!"
Sang Qianqian turned around and saw Wen Xu, who was covered in dust. He had a stubble, dark circles under his eyes, and a thin face.
He was wearing a black down jacket. It seemed to have been worn for a long time with a few wrinkles.
Sang Qianqian's eyes widened. "How did you become like this?"
She could only recognize him because he came to her house. If she met him outside, she might not have recognized him.
"I just got off the plane. I didn't pack before coming to see you and the child."
