The snow was getting heavier. Just moments ago, it was fine and scattered snowflakes, but now they had turned into hexagonal clusters, one after another.
This wasn't a film shoot, and neither of them needed any makeup. Xia Siyu only had a dab of fruity lip balm on her lips. Bo Yan's lips, likely having been under a mask for a while, were slightly dry. Yet they were warm and soft, and even the faint lines on his upper lip carried a rugged charm that was utterly captivating.
The only peculiar thing was the little cow plushie in Xia Siyu's arms. It had been dangling by her side earlier. Now, with Bo Yan holding her, the plushie naturally ended up nestled between the two of them. It both blocked any further closeness and prevented them from pulling apart—because if they did, Xia Siyu would definitely drop it since she lacked the strength to hold onto it otherwise. It would undeniably fall to the ground.
