Underneath Yu Han Bridge, a moment of silence.
The gentle breeze suddenly becomes a good companion, Tianshuang River is white, the moonlight remains unchanged as old friends arrive.
Moonlight half-immersed in the rippling water, as if shards of ice flowing in the river.
The rustling of clothes sounds softly.
In the dark shadows where the light under the bridge cannot reach, a tall and slender silhouette gradually rises.
As the figure slowly approaches, a crisp and clean scent like grass wafts over.
Yun Rong's heart slightly stirs, and the image of the once small Young Master, as big as a glutinous rice ball, slowly rises in her mind.
She opened her lips slightly, feeling a bit surprised: "Little..."
Moonlight swept across the bridge's edge, descending, as he brushed the snowflakes off his shoulder.
A handsome, clear face came through the play of light and shadow, eyes overly pure and familiar.
