Mason King stood still and didn't dodge, just glancing at her with a smile.
Suzanne Trent had intended to flee after throwing the snow, but seeing him unmoving, she couldn't help but look back at him.
The snow she had just thrown covered the man's head and composed handsome face, as he stood unmoving in the wind and snow. The indulgence in his eyes and reluctance to argue with her were all too obvious. The morning sun cast a long, tall shadow on the snowy ground behind him.
Next to Mason King's shadow, another figure playfully scooped up a handful of snow, this time directly aiming for his collar.
Mason finally evaded it, avoiding snow from getting into his collar. At the same time, he let out an ambiguous laugh, casually stuffed her woolen scarf into the pocket of his iron-gray coat, not caring about his appearance. His eyes filled with dangerous intent, "Are you sure you want to play like this?"