In a trance, her mother's gentle words resurfaced in her mind, "An'an, you can make a wish on the first snowy day."
The Snow God will listen and help you realize it.
Will it be realized?
It will.
Suddenly, she reached out, accurately grabbing that piece of "snow."
Shen Juncheng slightly furrowed his brows, unaccustomed to others touching him, even if it were just his sleeve. Just as he was about to brush it aside, he heard her faint pleading voice, "Save me, save me..."
She clutched tightly to his sleeve as if grasping the last lifeline in her life.
"I don't want to die; I finally made it back... please save me, okay?"
Her voice carried a sob, low like the whimper of a young beast, "Dear Snow God, please save me..."
Shen Juncheng's action of brushing off his sleeve halted, as if these last words overlapped with something deep in his memory.
In the icy snow, the night pressed down deeply, like a devouring beast, casting everything around into boundless darkness.
