Lin Gantang saw Wen Yanqing standing still behind the curtain for a long time. She was a little puzzled and asked what he was doing.
Wen Yanqing quickly drew the curtains. "It's cold outside. Don't open the windows and curtains. I'll help you close them tight."
Lin Gantang nodded obediently and didn't ask why. Anyway, she had been looking at the scenery outside the window for so many years, so she wasn't interested. Why would she open the window?
"You're going out?" she asked curiously when she saw Wen Yanqing put on his coat.
"Going downstairs to take out the trash."
It was late at night. The wind blew, and the air was still cold.
Almost all the leaves of the sycamore tree had fallen, leaving only its branches. Under the faint light, its shadow was extremely long.
Wen Yanqing threw away the trash in his hand and stopped in front of the person.
