The cold wind swept through, brushing against the small courtyard. The delicate snowflakes vanished in an instant. In her hand, there was only a smooth shard of pottery, reflecting the slightly heartbroken face of the young girl.
Chen Yi didn't know what to say for a moment. He slowly approached her side, crouched halfway down, and wrapped her, along with the pottery shard, in his arms.
For a while, there was silence, with no words exchanged.
A trace of nostalgia flickered in Zhou Yitang's eyes.
Not long after, Chen Yi let go of Yin Tingxue. She wiped away her tears, carefully wrapped the pottery shard in a piece of cloth, and tied it securely.
"Let's keep going," Yin Tingxue said.
Chen Yi suddenly noticed her face was slightly red and asked,
"Are you feeling feverish?"
As he spoke, he placed his hand on her forehead and found it indeed somewhat hot.
"A little… but only a little. It's not a problem."
