A large ship, decked in blue and white and three stories high, was moored in the bay.
Fu Han, clad in a rose-red down jacket, stood at the harbor, waiting for the ship to dock. Today, she was bundled up tight, resembling a glutinous rice dumpling.
She held out her hand to Luo Qinghe, "Let me carry my own backpack, you're already carrying too much."
Luo Qinghe's shoulders were burdened with two huge, bulging backpacks and his hands gripped a massive suitcase.
Their luggage included their SLR cameras, change of clothes, items for potential rescue situations, food, and the like.
"Here," Luo Qinghe, not one to stand on ceremony, handed her a rose-red backpack, "You'll have to carry it yourself in Antarctica anyway, might as well get used to it now."
Fu Han smiled. Framed by her rose-colored hat, her grin was as vibrant as a rose, catching the eye with its radiance.
