On the sunny side of the airport, the snow had mostly melted, trickling down with water. On the side against the light, Chen Xue reflected a bright snow glow, where everything seemed to have frozen in place.
She couldn't remember how many times she had been to Bianjing City. In her memory, Su Ziceng had come to Bianjing City several times, once to attend someone else's wedding, and another time it seemed to attend a gathering. In any case, there were no profound impressions. Su Ziceng found the past dull thirty-five years were taking up less and less space in her memory, just like Hang Yishao, blanketed in the light of the snow, adding to the confusion in her mind.
The hotel she booked was in the city center, and conveniently Luli Street was also at the center, so after settling her luggage, Su Ziceng rested for a night, and rushed to Luli Street the next day.
