In winter, if it wasn't for the need to live, who would be willing to go out? It's below minus ten or twenty degrees outside, cold as ice and everything withers away. Isn't staying indoors and eating hotpot the happiest thing in the world?
"Whose meat, whose meat? Don't make me have to fish for it."
Liuzi shouted, then directly put a big piece of lamb into his bowl, while Bi Qing lay beside him, patting his belly: "I can't eat anymore, I can't eat anymore..."
Weiwei watched as Liuzi and Gu Tao fought over the food. Outside, the wind howled, carrying snow with it. The cold wind felt like a knife scraping against one's face, but inside it was steamy and warm, so much so that Bi Qing even wore summer clothes, lying there in a drunken stupor.
