Hearing footsteps, Fu Zichuan turned his head and saw a red figure slowly approaching along the lakeside, the golden hairpin swaying slightly.
In the deep winter cold, the heavy snow had dyed the high walls and tiles white, creating a desolate and bitter landscape, and she became the only speck of color amid it, as vibrant as blazing fire, with a lotus petal adorned on her forehead painted in vermillion.
Fu Zichuan was momentarily enthralled.
In that dazed moment, Wen Wan had already walked into the Waterside Pavilion and sat down.
She was always afraid of the cold, so when Dou Kou brought Fu Zichuan over, she had also arranged for a brazier and hot tea, and had hung bamboo curtains around the pavilion to block the wind.
Having met before, Wen Wan didn't stand on ceremony with him, but directly took a seat after entering, warming her hands over the brazier, and spoke leisurely, "I heard the Young Master was looking for me?"
