"Shen Mosheng, look, snowflakes have fallen on my eyelashes." A snowflake suddenly landed on Han Yingying's eyelashes, and she let out an excited cry, hardly daring to blink, for fear it might fall off.
"It's beautiful."
"Yes, snowflakes are crystal clear and very pretty."
"I was talking about you." Shen Mosheng put her gloves on, "Yingying, it's cold."
"If I wear them, I can't play with the snow." Han Yingying took them off again and handed them back to him.
"At least wear one?"
"No, it's too bothersome."
Seeing her hands red from the cold, Shen Mosheng stepped forward, grabbed her hands, and stuffed them into his coat pocket, "I'll play with you."
"But this is inconvenient." Han Yingying said as she tried to take her hands out.
Shen Mosheng held on tightly, slightly obstinate, saying, "You use your right hand, I use my left hand. We'll do it together."
