"Hey." Zhou Qiyue checked his emotions, suppressing an inexplicable anger: "I need to deal with the dead grass here, go play somewhere else."
Otherwise, looking at it was irritating.
An unknown anger was simmering in his heart, nearly exploding many times but always pulling back at the last moment.
Yun Qianshu made a soft sound of understanding, releasing the snowball in her hand. Her hands had turned bluish-black, as if even clenching them took a considerable effort. They were chillingly stiff.
Zhou Qiyue pursed his lips.
He took out the black leather gloves from his pocket and tossed them over to Yun Qianshu, his tone was icy: "Put them on."
Yet, his heart was a blend of mixed feelings, after a surge of emotions: "Do you really... not remember me?"
Yun Qianshu finally looked up.
She appeared perplexed, always a trace of indifference in her eyes.
She couldn't retain many memories.