In the middle of the morning, a taxi with a crooked track was driving on the road. The original lively scenery on both sides of the road became a lot colder now. The gusts of cold wind blew across the road. The packaging paper of many fireworks left on the road was blown high and raised, and the pungent gunpowder smell in the air could be heard vaguely.

Zongxia stayed in the car, holding her arms in cold hands. Shiqian found that she was wearing thin clothes. She stretched out her long arms and closed the half open window for her.

Zongxia looked at him, and the breath condensed into...