The winter in Yonkers was cold and piercing, with the dry and stiff leaves of the plane trees displaying shades of orange and brown. Under the influence of the cool wind, they made audible and feeble noises as they rubbed against the bricks in the streets.
The unexpected snowfall added a touch of color to the winter. The snowflakes gently floated down onto the stone steps and vegetation like fine white fluff, forming a thin layer of snow.
Upon hearing his words, there was a slight tremor in Lu Yang's flickering black eyes.
Jiang Yanzhou gazed into her bright eyes for a moment before he spoke solemnly, "I think your name has another meaning."
Snow fell on his shoulders, which melted into water upon contact with his clothes, leaving small damp spots.
Lu Yang's gaze shifted, and she stared at his well-defined nose bridge for a few seconds. She then slightly turned her eyes to meet his gaze.