Sixteen stations, the route is not very long, sometimes getting off the metro doesn't mean reaching the destination directly, so one must transfer to a bus.
Lu Jiang and Feng Qingxue walked through several scenic spots in the snow, holding hands when no one was around, but were treated like fools by people when spotted. If braving the wind and snow for fun isn't foolishness, what is?
Winter days are short, and nights long, and soon it was time for dinner, so the two went to the old Moscow Restaurant.
"Actually, hotpot and roasted mutton are tastier." Though she learned several foreign languages, Feng Qingxue personally didn't quite like Western food; she still preferred the authentic cuisine of her own country.
Lu Jiang glared at her again and again, "It's different in meaning!"
