The first snow in December came early or late. One night on Monday, and on Tuesday morning, Qiao Muyuan took a lot of photos of snow scenes at the campus gate before going to class.

She remembered that the first class today was Ji Changmu's elective course, but he hadn't come to class for a long time and had been a teaching assistant.

She entered the classroom with a scarf, rubbed her hands, and took off the short coat outside.

The classroom was very warm, with a white mist on the glass.

But no one expected that Ji Changmu would come to class today. As before, he came in stepping on the ringtone, unbuttoned his scarf, took off his coat, and wore only a black close-fitting sweater. He picked up the chalk from the podium and wrote down today's topic on the blackboard.

Ji Changmu's voice was gentle and his fluent English was straightforward. Many girls didn't listen to the class and just looked at him.

Qiao Muyuan sat in the corner, silently taking notes.

Halfway through the class, the snow outside was heavy, the wind was whistling, and a thick layer of snow quickly accumulated on the ground.

Ji Changmu looked out, and under his slender eyelashes were a pair of deep and restrained eyes. He suddenly stopped the economic topic he was talking about and wrote a sentence at the corner of the blackboard, "The clouds are low and the twilight is low, and the snow dances back the wind."

He didn't say much, probably just thought of this sentence, and didn't stay for long, and continued to talk about today's course.

Qiao Muyuan took the notes on the blackboard, and when he looked up, he bumped into his eyes.

She avoided his hot gaze and continued to write and draw on her notebook, her ears were his low voice and the howling wind outside the window.

It's another year when heavy snow is flying.

It snows and Christmas is coming soon.

Qiao Muyuan always felt that it was better when she was a child, carefree and unaware of the taste of sorrow. Although she had nothing to worry about now, she always felt uncomfortable.

The heart always seemed to be pricked by needles, one after another, and it felt so uncomfortable, but she didn't know why she felt uncomfortable.

After class, Ji Changmu closed the textbook as usual and left.

A classmate shouted: "Professor, will you come to class next time?"

"Come on." He cherished his words like gold. After saying only one word, he left the classroom and stepped into the vast snow.

Qiao Muyuan packed up his textbook and rushed to the next class.

But she didn't have the heart to go to class. After class, she ran to a secluded garden in the school for a long time, holding an umbrella, and folding a light yellow wintersweet in a dull way.

She sat on a stone bench in an open space, lowered her head and took a photo of the snow scene, and posted a message on WeChat Moments: How can I be happy?

Not long after, I received a lot of replies.

A (neighbor brother): Is the little princess unhappy? Come to Australia and take you to Christmas~

B (high school classmate): Yoyo, Qiao Muyuan is still unhappy.

C (Auntie): Come to my aunt's house and make desserts for you. (Smile)

Qiao Chengfan: What’s wrong with being unhappy? Say it and make everyone happy.

Qiao Zhixing: Is there no pocket money again?

Ye Jiaqi:↑↑You two are enough.

Qiao Muyuan looked at her brother and her brother's comments, and became even more unhappy, with his little head hanging down.

The fragrance of the plum blossoms was stained with one hand, and she was not afraid of the cold. She held her cell phone and looked at the snow covered with snow. The white color reflected in her pupils, blurring her gaze.

The class bell rang, and she walked back to the classroom with her bag on her back.

It was snowing heavily. At noon, Qiao Muyuan was carrying a bag and preparing to leave the classroom, and his cell phone rang.
Chapter completed!