Before she could steady herself, she fell into a cold embrace.
"Wife..." Xiao Yuchuan had a thousand words to say, grateful to the heavens for being able to hold her again, yet it all turned into a choked two words.
Su Qingyue still had a large bundle of firewood on her back, which she took off and piled onto the woodpile that took up nearly one square meter on the wooden raft.
Looking at the lit woodpile, it was far more practical than a sloppy "I love you."
Tears of emotion welled up in her eyes.
Xiao Yuchuan, seeing the tears in her eyes, asked softly, "Wife, why are you crying? Are you too happy to see me?"
"No," she said with a moved expression, "I'm just feeling that, damn it, I'm finally not going to freeze to death!"
"..." Xiao Yuchuan's forehead creased with three black lines, "Isn't it true love that shows itself in adversity, seeing how deeply in love you are with your husband?"
