I have always liked snowflakes. Watching them fall in waves, with the breeze, scattered in any corner of the world. They are not arrogant and arrogant, but they can bring people a kind of purity and whiteness, as if the world is so clean. Even if other colors appear, falling snowflakes can immediately cover them up. If you meet snowflakes flying all over the sky again this time, you must walk quietly on the deserted street with the person you like, and watch the hexagonal snowflakes falling on your skirts and dancing like the earth, and complete that beautiful dance. Without an umbrella or any cover, you can grow old slowly in the snow. This life is enough.
In fact, sometimes happiness is really simple. Walking under the buttonwood tree with the person you like, smelling the oncoming Gui Xiang, or in a corner, quietly crossing your fingers and telling interesting things that you don't know each other, or eating together, reading together, living an imaginary life together, or occasionally having a little romance in normal times can all be a kind of happiness. There is absolutely no need to be romantic every day, and it hurts your brain every day. Sometimes the happiness of holding hands is so romantic.