At four in the afternoon in Qinghe, the sun was already setting in the winter sky. Despite the darkening sky, it was still brilliant everywhere as people continued to burn more firecrackers and light up lanterns.
Xinghe held Jiahe’s hand and they were strolling the streets casually. Jiahe now had Xinghe’s black cashmere scarf wrapped around her neck, so even if the bone-chilling wind swept across her, she would not feel the chill.
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