Shen Tang has returned, but she is in poor condition.
Swan snowflakes were drifting by the river, the army ready to go, when a graceful figure stumbled over from not far away.
Her face was haggard, with both hands clutching her chest, she walked through the snow, her clothes completely soaked, as if she had just swam back from the sea.
The cold wind roared against her, her long black hair and clothes were frozen with shards of ice, her cheeks, nose tip, and earlobes all flushed red from the cold, exuding a sense of being lost and distraught.
A tall and upright figure rushed forward, immediately enveloping her in a fiery, broad embrace, the scorching masculine breath instantly melting the snow in her hair.
